
How it Hits You — The 15 Stages of Corporate Layoff
The Tuesday after Memorial Day weekend, my husband had a phone call scheduled with his boss. It was set for a time a bit earlier than usual, so he took the call from home. We thought nothing of it.
I came into the kitchen as he was hanging up.
“I just got laid off,” he said.
A bite of banana stuck in my throat. Still, I pretended like I didn’t hear him. Denial was already setting in. I poured a cup of coffee, booted up my computer, and went to check for the newspaper. And then it hit me. I felt sick. I sank down in a chair at the table and said, “What happened?”
What happened was nothing new. It had happened to so many of our friends in the twenty-seven years my husband had worked at this large corporation. He’d been lucky to have survived so many other rounds of layoffs, we assumed he’d get through this one too. After all, unlike other times, his department was doing well. We just hadn’t seen this coming.
In the next twenty-four hours, I moved from one phase to the next, starting with denial, which I’d already done. The rest of the day looked and sounded something like this:
Survival Mode:
Okay, I’m going to cancel my haircut today to save money. I can wear a ponytail all summer, and no one will notice. I’ll cancel our dinner plans for tonight and also our trip to the mountains in July. I can even shut off cable for the summer and cut back on the food bill. Who needs Whole Foods and Movies on Demand at a time like this?
Keep it Positive:
You know, this could be a good thing. You’ve been there so long. We’ve been talking about trying new things, maybe this opens a door. You could wind up with something you like even better. Heck, maybe you’ll even get a raise.
Disbelief:
Wait, are you sure this is happening? Are you sure they aren’t eliminating your position but moving you into another one? They’ve done that before. I mean, why would they let someone with your credentials go? You know this company inside and out, you’ve been one of their most valued employees. Surely they don’t want you taking all that knowledge to their competitor.
Guilt:
Look at us feeling sorry for ourselves. How many of our friends have gone through this lately? We shouldn’t complain. It was just our turn. I mean, go tell our troubles to some Syrian refugee and see what he thinks. Or to some homeless family at the local shelter. We should count our blessings.
Relief:
It’s a good thing we didn’t book those vacation tickets yet or call about getting that sprinkler system. I’m glad we didn’t buy the new car we’ve been looking at. At least we won’t have that payment right now. We’re lucky. We’ve planned for this. We have money in the bank. We’ll be fine.
Self-Blame:
Did we bring this on ourselves? After all, just this weekend we were talking about how good our lives are. Our eldest just graduated from college. Our youngest just graduated from high school. We celebrated our 25th anniversary. We’ve been making all these plans for what comes next. Did we get too cocky? Is the universe putting us back in our places?
Hindsight:
Was the writing on the wall? Did we miss something? Should you have taken that job you were offered six months ago? Or maybe stayed in the department you were in before? Should we have been keeping our ears open for other opportunities, or going to more networking events? Could we have done more?
Fix-It Mode:
Okay, enough talk, we need action. Let’s dust off your seven-year-old resume and jazz up your LinkedIn page. You start calling all your contacts. I’ll send an e-mail to everyone I know who might have leads. You set up a call with our financial advisor. I’ll see if I can drum up some additional work for myself. Let’s get moving.
Concern for Others:
Wait, should we tell our parents? What about the kids? They’re “grown up” now. They can handle it. Still, we don’t want to worry anyone. Maybe we should wait till we have more information. What about the children we sponsor or the other charities counting on our donations? Will we have to let people down?
Just Sit with It:
Forget I said that. You need to watch your blood pressure. I tried meditating while you were in the shower, by the way. It didn’t work. I tried praying, and that helped, but it also made me cry. I tried “checking in with myself,” but myself is still too stunned to speak.
Feeling Anxious:
I can’t be in this house anymore. I’m too antsy. I’m going to run errands. Get my mind off this. You want to come?
Reflection:
Look at how pretty our yard looks. I wonder if we’ll need to move across country to take a new job and leave all this behind. Still, I can’t help but believe this is happening for a reason and it’s going to be okay. I’ve been going through some changes myself lately in my own work. Maybe the universe is not smacking us down. Maybe it’s clearing the way for us to grow together.
Uncertainty:
This is weird, not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I mean, it’s always kind of that way, especially in my line of work. But it’s never been that way with yours. Will one of your contacts call with a job offer tomorrow? Could it be that easy? Or will this drag on for months? This is life, though, right? Unpredictable? It can change in a moment, isn’t that what people say?
We Made It:
We made it through Day 1 of unemployment. That wasn’t so bad. Tomorrow let’s make a list of all the things you won’t miss about that company. You gotta laugh about it, right? Humor is good. No, don’t set your alarm. Sleep in tomorrow. Why not. You’ve got no place to be. Oh, Lord.
Teresa Funke is an author, speaker, arts advocate, and observer of American life. She’s written six works of fiction, including Dancing in Combat Boots: and Other Stories of American Women in World War II. She posts weekly on her blog Bursts of Brilliance for a Creative Life. Sign up for her newsletter here or check out her YouTube channel here.