Character When the Pain is Real

I can finally write this stuff. I have been unable to write for about eight days the pain of it all has been too great to write it.

I thought that I had applied for an internal promotion at work. I applied on the in-house, web-based system and uploaded my new resume. I told my supervisor that I had applied for it. I told the people around me that I had applied for it.

My goal was to be open with everyone to cut down on the gossip in the office and I also told people that I did not think that I would get it because I figured that the chosen one was going to get it, and I was not the chosen one.

About 13 days later, I called a particular person in human resources about the process. I wanted to know where things were? Well, the next day I found out the truth.

The Bomb Drops.

Two weeks after I thought I had applied, they announced the "winner." For me, my boss announced it in a department meeting the day after they had announced it. I (in a rare impulse) blurted that I did not get an interview for it.

I ran down to human resources after the meeting. I got a blank look from the clerk. She did not have me as having applied for the job.

I went home depressed. I had plans for going to the neighborhood association meeting and face all those vigilantes who soundly defeated me from being the chair. I forced myself to move.

I went into the bank after dinner and the branch manager handled my transaction. He asked me how I was doing? I told him that I probably could probably have complain about stuff but that I was okay given what I had under the circumstances.

This wowed me. He shook my hand and told me that I seemed to be someone of character. He at least had me thinking about the operative word Character.

I managed my way through the neighborhood association meeting even though vigilante #1 (on my block) walked by me in her borderline personality way without saying a word to me and avoiding eye contact with me for the whole meeting. I was able to get to sleep without the need for medication.

The day after.

My boss talked to her boss. My boss had been a cheerleader for my getting a promotion since I was open with her. Both sent me me either e-mails or copies of e-mails to human resources. My boss told me that another promotion was coming open. One human resource recruiter responded back in a cold, bureaucratic way without apology that there were only so many people who had applied for the job (he got an "F" in internal customer service from me).

The two human resources people that I had talked to were quite confused and it took a second conversation to get the point across that the *&#$ website did not work for me. I finally got an apology for the organization moving from the paper to web-based system.

The phone call with Human Resources took place in front of "Fritz" and the nurse who I have cited as being guilty of awfulizing. The nurse complimented me about how I talked to the H.R. rep. Both Fritz and the nurse gave me rare sympathy.

It also turned out that there was something of a human drama where me, my boss, and my boss's boss all made assumptions. I assumed that my application had gone through. My boss, who had interviewed two of the individuals assumed her boss was interviewing me separately. My boss's boss had assumed I had changed my mind because she had not received my application.

The Emotional Fallout

I was very mad. I felt that I was cheated. I felt stupid. I felt awkward. I was numb. I thought my boss's boss had made some serious mistakes because she had moved the hiring process at warp speed as it was only 14 days from first internal listing to actually announcing the winner.

I did not hear my boss's boss's high heals clunking in the hallway the next day. I knew she was in the office given her two e-mails, but I got the sense that she was avoidant. I thought that was good because I needed the distance. Everything she had done to that point was at warp speed.

She has identified herself as a "high performer." I have identified her as "driven" and a "bull in a china shop" because of her string of rapid decisions with subsequent recinds. Driven is really not a good state to be in because there is really no inner peace and the judgment in terms of management decisions tends to be poor.

I tried to logically tell myself that I was receiving divine redirection. To be truthful, it still did not end the pain.

I did have one conversation on the day after the announcement with my boss. My boss (being a borderline personality) was coping probably worse that I was. She was calling me again and again with some pretty weird concerns. She then called me down to her office.

She immediately started to discuss the problem about working for her since I was applying for other jobs. I told her that since I have the Ph.D. I owed it to my family to move off the line (I should have said myself included). We talked about the boffo of my not getting the inteview for the promotion. I told her openly that it was awkward, but it at least helped that finally someone from human resources apologized for the web-based system. The conversation was of marginal help.

The weekend aftermath.

In the midst of the next several days I had felt pretty dark. I was sad and but I had spurts of energy with my anger. I was mad at myself and I was mad at my boss's boss.

I had hopes for a promotion with a salary increase. I had hopes for the next promotion that I could actually have the title "manager" or "director." I found myself grieving.

So, I have been feeling stuck, like I imagine others to be feeling.

During the next few days, the news about increasing unemployment rates also made me depressed. I thought back to my days in early 1992 when I was looking for a ministerial job after I had graduated from seminary and I had received two flush letters from churches that were cold--and my hopes for being in parish ministry as an associate were dashed in the midst of a recession.

I still hurt eight days later. This kind of crap hurts. It is supposed to hurt. It is human to hurt.

We try to pose as tough, mature human beings, but no matter how tough the exterior shell or mask we put on we still hurt on the tender inside. Being tough can be a private hell if it is taken to extremes.

Accepting our tender side makes us real, and free. Being real has been one of my pursuits.

While we need interpersonal boundaries and not give too much information to people, telling trusted people that we are hurting in and of itself is healing and relieving of sorts--it is much of the basis of what helps people in individual therapy.

This last week of January 2009 has not been one of the worst in the history of the United States, but it has been painful. The joy of Barack Obama becoming the first African-American president appears to have been forgotten with all the news stories of layoffs and unemployment.

The pain will go on for awhile. Right now the news media is not exactly offering us any hope. The president is not exactly offering us any hope either. (Of course, I think that he is using the current rhetoric of pending economic depression to push his stimulus package through.)

Many of us are screaming inside. Many of us are anxious and worried if our jobs will be safe or if we will ever get another job? The current news is not helping.

I had a lot of restless energy to deal with during the days both from the national news, and my personal stuff. I wore myself out in two ways: I took a hatchet and chopped up a lot of tile on the garage floor, and I concentrated on my next journal article submission. I also baked a lot of pizza for an office pizza party.

During the chopping of the floor, I wondered if my whole chances of advancement in the organization were shot? I pondered what I needed to do to make some kind of recovery?

I asked myself "What was important?" What did I need to do? I also was grateful to the bank manager for supplying the word "character."

I sensed that there was a triangle of drama that I needed to nip in the bud like I have done in my current job. I decided that I needed to make myself indispensible. I decided that I needed to show character. I decided that I needed to press on in the pain.

I decided that this was possibly the best type of job interview where I had was going to show that I was one of the greatest employees they could promote. I also decided that this was a great test of whether or not the boss's boss was going to be someone I could work for. As quirky as those thoughts were, I made my my plans.

I decided that I needed to make every effort to show what character I had so that they were on my team the next time I applied for a promotion (should that opportunity present itself). The harder things of showing character meant making an apology. I needed to make an apology to my boss and my boss's boss for assuming that my application had gone through.

I decided that I have gained some trust or stature with the more difficult work team. They have seen me handle personal adversity with character.

Well, I did make the apologies. I made the pizza.

I did not get to serve the pizza given that there has been ice and snow in Louisville that shut down the city for the better part of the week. But since I made the apologies, I have ruminated less than I thought I would.

I also completed the draft of my journal article (where I cut 59 pages down to 36). I think that I used the adrenaline generated from the anger.

I have been jamming to angry or hard songs like Gotta Be Someboy by Nickelback and Paralyzer by Finger Eleven. My wife thinks that I am blowing out my one good ear. Maybe I am.

I think that I have been doing the best that I can do. It is all I can do in the moment.

The best that we can do is rarely ever perfect, but it is where character is shown when the pain is real. It is one thing to take solace in.