So I went through my closet today.
Got rid of everything that doesn't fit me anymore.
Got rid of work clothes that I no longer can or need to wear.
And it broke me. It broke my heart, and it broke me down.
I think it's supposed to be cathartic to purge every so often.
Guess I needed to do this years ago.
Six years ago (Holy Cow....6 years already??) I got fired.
They termed it letting me go, but it was the same thing.
It's taken me a long time to get over it.
I'd been promoted to what I like to call a ghost position.
I had the title of front end manager but it was an empty title...it didn't mean anything.
I had no power to make any decisions or changes, no hiring, no nothing.
Nor was I allowed to speak to the owners to voice my ideas or complaints.
It made me crazy.
Anything I did do or idea I did have was claimed by the practice manager as hers.
That made me crazier still.
It also made me mad. And being mad is what got me fired.
Listen...It wasn't a good time in my life.
I was floundering as a manager...I had no skills,
I didn't know how to do the job they hired me to do,
But they made me do it anyway...it was a failure waiting to happen.
So I'm promoted within the company to a managers job that I'm not qualified for.
My sister dies 6 months into this.
Practice manager wanted me to know that they (her and the owners) were being nice to me.
Told me that they could have fired me for taking so much time off in regards to my sister dying.
The practice manager told me that I would need to get down to business now that the funeral was over.
Told me that now it was time to move on (this the day after I returned from bereavement leave).
And I'm fired 6 months later.
So, yeah, in one years time I was promoted, I watched my sister get sick and die in a horrible way,
and then I was fired from a job I'd been at for 14 years.
Crazy was putting it mildly.
I went on Unemployment which is so extremely stressful!!
Oh my gosh is it stressful...who knew??
That lasted 9 months, then I found a new place of employment.
I work there a year before I walk out the door vowing to myself
to never take verbal abuse from any employer. Ever. Again. Ever.
And that's when my work clothes start to collect dust.
I told my husband that I didn't want to work anymore...that I'd had enough.
So I started babysitting my grandkids...just the 1 at first, now there are 2 that I watch.
So there sits my wardrobe...collecting dust and hanger marks.
Every single morning I see it as I get out of bed.
All those clothes from 14 years as a receptionist, hanging there in my closet, useless.
All those clothes that I spent my paychecks on, all those cute and tiny and lovely clothes...
Nothing but dust collectors now.
And I feel it, every morning when I wake up...and I see into that closet.
I see the loss, the failure, the sense of...I don't know what.... a feeling of grief...is that it??
Could it be guilt??? I don't know.
I only know that every time I see all of those size 4, 5, and 6 work outfits hanging there
it reminds me of what I lost, it reminds me of my failure...and it makes me feel sad.
And I'm tired of feeling sad about clothes.
I'm tired of reliving the fact that I don't work outside the home anymore.
I'm tired of feeling guilty about not being able to fit into these clothes anymore!
When I wore those clothes, I worked 10 hour days without a lunch.
When I wore those clothes, I smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, or more.
When I wore those clothes, I was a different person.
The woman that wore those clothes was angry, and anxious and a multi-tasker.
The woman that wore those clothes wanted other people to compliment her on her cute clothes.
That woman wasn't very nice, was very co-dependant, and was miserable to be around.
The woman that wore those clothes did not have a relationship with you, Jesus.
The woman that I am today would like to move past all that.
The woman that I am today would like to be able to get up in the morning
and not be haunted by an old work wardrobe that is collecting dust.
So I purged my closet today and I cried while I did it.
Tears of relief? pain? sadness? I don't know.
But I'm bagging it all up and taking it down to Goodwill.
Then I'm going to pick up my grandkids and go to work.