LETTERS FROM CHARITY

Part 5

Dear Beth,

I hope you don’t mind that I’m writing to you again before you’ve had an opportunity to respond to my last email.  It’s just that something has happened and I don’t know who else to tell.  Well, that’s not strictly accurate.  There are other people I could tell but I know the responses I would get from them and quite frankly, those responses would probably tip me over the edge.

A week ago, I was let go from my job.  I’d worked there for almost ten years.  Saying that I was blindsided would be an understatement of galaxy-sized proportions.  I had no idea that things weren’t going well for them.  I mean, it’s a small non-profit, but I never heard even a whisper of financial trouble.  You want to know the kicker?  I’d poured my heart and soul into that place since day one and yet when it came time to clean house and save money, they showed me the door instead of the three people they’d hired in the last year (none of whom, by the way, contribute much more than their attractive young faces).  I got a lot of “we have to do what’s best for the organization,” “this is harder on us than it is on you,” and “we know you understand” garbage.  Well, guess what?  I happen to think that I am someone who’s best for the organization, you have absolutely no idea how hard this is on me, and I most definitely DO NOT understand.  How could you think that three twenty-somethings who sit there and do nothing but talk about makeup and the latest party they went to are a better choice than me?!

I’m sorry.  I thought that I was over most of that but I guess not.  I simply do not understand why it had to be me.  I’m not saying that I’m the only thing keeping that place running — I know they’ll do just fine without me.  Everyone always does.  But it honestly doesn’t make financial sense to get rid of one person who actually gets things done in favor of paying three salaries to girls who honestly don’t lift a finger unless the director is standing right over their heads.  I’m baffled.

I’ve spent the last week trying to make sense of it all — in between looking for a new job and staying up way too late binge watching Netflix — and all that I’ve come up with is more anger and intense feelings of bitterness.  And I don’t know what to do with that.

Can I ask you something?  Why does the Bible not deal in feelings?  Why doesn’t it spell out how we’re supposed to deal with everything raging inside us?  Why doesn’t God provide us with step by step instructions on how to become emotionally healthy?  I wish He would.  Then maybe I wouldn’t feel guilty for being angry on top of everything else.  It’s ironic to me that my pastor spends quite a bit of time talking about anger from the pulpit but he never seems to get around to saying anything useful about how we’re supposed to deal with it.

I have spent a great deal of my life fighting hard against feeling that I as a person am utterly pointless.  Nothing I do, nothing I say hasn’t been done and said before, and people will continue to do and say the same things whether I’m here or not.  And they’ll do and say them so much better than I ever could.  This latest incident really validates that in spades.

You might not be able to relate to this but sometimes it feels like every time I think I’m moving in some kind of positive direction, I run smack into an oncoming train.  Or the train runs into me.  I thought when we first started communicating that maybe God was finally answering some of my prayers.  I thought that maybe I was going to see that goodness of His that everyone talks about so much.  I have struggled and fought, battled for so long, it seems, and now this happens.  Is there a joke that I’m just not getting?  Am I missing something?  I’ve been fighting just to remain upright against the onslaught of despair, confusion, and doubt, but I feel like perhaps it’s time to give in and give up.  In the past, it seemed like even in my darkest night, even in the depths of a depression that was too often my only companion, I always had something to cling to, strangely enough.  But now I feel lost at sea.  I have no anchor, anymore.

As I write this, it strikes me that my reaction might seem way out of proportion to the situation.  I mean, people get fired all the time, right?  It doesn’t send them into a vortex of rage and despair.  I’m acting like a big baby, aren’t I?  I need to snap out of it and get myself together.  I can’t depend on anyone to rescue me.

I’m really sorry to have bothered you with this.  I have to admit that it sort of helped to get all this down on paper, but I hope I didn’t take you away from something important.  You don’t have to respond to this one.  I suppose maybe I just needed to vent.  Thank you for reading and I do apologize for being so downbeat.

Blessings,

Charity