Trigger Warning: This post contains a (politically incorrect) discussion regarding suicide and suicidal ideation. Please read responsibly.
I just received an email from the person at the staffing agency who spoke to my other boss’s boss:
The role will not be moving [to the other end of the state], they don’t see it as a necessity for you to work out of the office up here. You’re doing well in your current location, so requiring you to relocate is not something they feel is necessary. While I had her on the phone I also asked about the position becoming permanent. They are finishing up some final conversations at the end of this month relating to budget and company structure. We should have a final answer by the end of the month.
I’ve said all along that this position didn’t require a move to the main branch, but the boss’s boss always seemed to think it did. As much as I would like to read “role will not be moving” as a big positive, I can’t. On the one hand it is true, the job is fine where it is. On the other hand, that could be code for “we don’t think this is going to be a permanent full-time position so we don’t want to tell her to move up here.”
I know a little more than I did yesterday. I know that I need to vacate the present apartment by the end of July and roughly what direction I should be looking for a new place — which I won’t be able to afford if I lose the job.
As much as I’ve talked about deep, dark depression, you may find it odd when I say that depression really isn’t what is driving my suicidal ideation. If you’ve read this blog for a while you know that I have been losing job after job, have moved and moved. I’ve been crazy brave about some stuff. No one is quite sure if it is more crazy or more brave, but it is both, for sure. I’ve tried, been stomped on and then backed over and stomped on again, gotten up, sworn I can’t do it again, and do it again. There’s a limit.
This time, the idea of being unemployed and homeless AGAIN is just too much. I can’t do it. If somebody handed me a job, a place to live, and a modicum of stability for a while, even with god-awful depression I’d be ok enough not to have these thoughts. In the best of times it takes months to get a new job. It is the most soul crushing process there is. I’ve been beaten down by it. Even if that wasn’t true, there’s the whole totally broke thing. I’ve borrowed so much money from my friend that it is one huge guilty weight. The last layoffs, I’ve at least had this apartment. Now that’s gone.
I don’t have family. My other best friend in the whole world died a few years ago. Another good friend in Ohio has a husband who apparently won’t allow her to have me stay with them, even though I’ve never met him and they have the room. I don’t feel like living in a shelter or under a bridge. Unemployment won’t cover anything. I’m screwed.
Sadly it is all very practical stuff. Basic needs. Basic needs and having to scrape and fight and suffer painfully for about ten years with the same things, over and over — and finally reaching my pain limit.
Now, according to the email above, I have a few more weeks to learn what the job situation is really. All I can do at this point is pack boxes and look at listings. I will have to borrow more money from my friend to rent another place, if I make it to that point.