Archives for category: middle age unemployment

I am crawling at the moment.
I continue to try to make sense of this new world. New world which I no longer seem to fit, believe I belong or even feel a part of anymore. This new paradigm shift as I call it, no longer includes me. Was I asleep? Did I not see the pod which seems to have taken over others and yet not me? I feel vulnerable. I feel out of control. I feel a sense of helplessness. How can I have become an adult college grad, gone on to obtain an advanced degree and after only ten years no longer have all I earned? How does this make sense? I have attempted to numb myself with alcohol; prayed to not awaken the next day. Cried and suppressed rage so powerful and visceral it hurt me inside. Today, this morning, I woke up to loud noises outside my window. It was the sound of my apartment complex being fenced in. I continue to try to not let the screaming inside my head come outside. I don’t want to be a prisoner, I am already incarcerated by my condition, my emotions, my circumstances. Now, I am paying to be fenced in as if in prison. I talk myself through the inevitable reality daily, sounds abruptly remind me, I can do nothing but try to talk myself through the moments, disruption. Today, I got dressed and went for a walk. My second day of walking. One step at a time. I need to force myself to find something to concentrate upon, something to do. I want back my creativity, passion, purpose, optimism, idealism, my life. My vision is blurry because of having no medical insurance and diabetes Type II symptoms, high blood pressure and high cholesterol.  I have to do something to see if I can combat what I can try to do for the rest of me. The walk felt good, it was not easy. It hurt a little, but I am remembering that “The longest journey begins with the first step.” I have taken my first steps….



Trying to make sense of being in my 50s and terminally unemployed. What do I do for the next seven years?? I have tried to figure out how to grow a dream, how to grow inspiration, how to grow hope, how to grow back my passion and creativity for living, helping others. Maybe, it starts here with my words!

Writing is a struggle against silence.
By Carlos Fuentes

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