Putting thoughts into posts make me see how flighty my thinking is. Thoughts scream for attention then fade away. I also see how certain themes come up again and again.

When I am deep in thoughts I am a giant loser who is mentally ill and can’t keep a job. When I am more objective I am a caring soul who made a wrong career choice. Sales was not the discipline for me. The thick skin, tenacity and resolve were not in me. Either as a sales manager or a salesperson.

That narrative was with me in the fall when I moved back to operations. It was a redemption story that worked. On many levels. I for into a discipline more suited for my skills. The office was close to home. I could keep my home and not uproot my daughter.

When I was given a layoff notice first of the year it was a shock. That situation destroyed the narrative I had crafted. I was already on thin ice mentally because of lockdown and too much time to think. That was with a job. And without a WIL crushing bad beat. Now I had nothing but time to ponder what happened and what I would do.

Getting laid off was a bad beat. And it made the job feel like another in the string. I have optimism that is all it was.

Phoenix is a lower key. It felt very natural and comfortable. The census is a third of the previous one. It won’t be as hectic. The position has been open for six months. They struggled to fill it. In talking with my supervisor and her supervisor stability is high in there priorities. As it is with me. It is a good company with corporate structure. Not a fly by the pants one person making rash decisions.

I am not going to look to far in the future. One day at a time. Get to Phoenix, get started. Finish the move. Signing a lease calms me. It is like I have a contractual obligation to stay a year. That is how unstable I have felt!

Hospice is the industry I work in. I was a full time chaplain. After 6 and a half years I was ready for more responsibility. Hospice is not an industry with a lot of career advancement opportunities. My options were sales or operations. I wanted to grow as a person, make more money. But I did not have a passion for either discipline. Nor do I have the work ethic it takes to be successful.

I am in an objective mood. I can see where I innocently made choices with good intentions. I can see where those choices have crushed me in every way. The question is “how do I get out? How do I move forward?” You get no argument me. I suck at these jobs. I don’t want to do them. I can’t believe it is so hard. I guess it is like leaving Southern California. At some point it will be bad enough I don’t have a choice. Fuck. That is a shitty attitude. I am optimistic. I want to be pushed into a different path. I want to share these posts. The times I was most Alice was being a chaplain at a busy hospital in Salt Lake City. Dealing with life or death emergencies. It wasn’t easy. But I felt called and had the skills to help. The other time was being the hospice chaplain. Helping people deal with death. It wasn’t easy but I was called and had the skills. I need to believe the enemy is worth fighting. No amount of money or titles drives me like racing crisis, death and now mental illness. This is my new ministry.

I feel peace when I accept the situation. After the layoff I was so devastated. I thought it was a situation so bad I could not accept it. I neared down and drive myself to destruction.

Sharing allowed my wife to accept me. Allowed her to open up. It empowered her to know she is not struggling alone. Sharing also allowed me to let down the wall I built of being strong and successful. I no longer needed to pretend I had executing under control.

Going into a leadership role how will I use these lessons? Normally I would act like I think a leader should act. Keep the wall up, never show weakness. Can I be honest? Vulnerable? And still lead?

Dear god,

Why are you doing this to me? Why are you embarrassing me? Humiliating me?

My mind is so screwed up. I apologize to my dad. I used to bag on him for things he failed to do. I gave my brother a hard time for what he was not. I am the worst of all us.

The terrible thing is I have a new job I am starting. I am the fucking director of the program. I am the leader, the boss. And I feel like ignorant shit.

I have a good job starting, with a good company. And all I can think about is how I will fuck it up. I seriously want to cry. I am on the verge of a new opportunity and all I see are the million ways I will fail. embarrass myself. Disappoint my daughter. Break my moms heart. Reinforce my wife’s belief I am a fuck up. Justify the WIL‘s jettisoning me.

I write that last post in the parking lot i stopped at the first time I came to dana point. Nine years ago. I thought I was on top of the world. I had gone from being a chaplain, to a sales person, to an executive director to a director of sales in two years. I had more than doubled my salary. I leave now completely pulverized. My money, ego and sanity are all gone. I am crawling to Arizona trying to pull my life to some semblance of functionality.

I accept that I have a mental illness that keeps me from functioning at work.

I went over to my daughter and wife’s house. I explained to my daughter that I struggle at keeping jobs. I then explained it to my wife the struggles I was having. Mentally, emotionally, financially. We don’t communicate much so it was nice to be honest. She shared her own struggles.

She also shared she made more income last year than me. Which wounded my pride. But interesting note. She always made more money than me until our daughter was born, I stopped being the chaplain and we moved to California. I built this persona that I could and would be super dad. That I would take care of all the finances and make things secure. Instead I failed.

I told my daughter I didn’t want to traumatize her by moving. My parents moved from South Dakota to wyoming when I was nine. It always felt I was not home. But my wife shared what I knew but didn’t want to admit. Mt daughter is traumatized by my job changes. She worried about me losing my job. My failure has affected her. She is struggling in school. I have no credibility to tell her how to succeed.

They don’t want to come to Arizona because they are afraid I can’t keep a job and abandon them. I admitted it probably was best not to explore moving right away.

The frustration I feel is not being able to get out of the situation. I can objectively say hospice sales are not for me. I can even say I would probably find more fulfillment doing something other than operations. But I do these jobs. Poorly. And just keep doing them. I am not even getting by. I am ramming my head into a post for money. How did I get so fucked up? How did the situation get so bad?

“Success was something you just had to be, and I would spend myself unknowingly” John Prine

I have been thinking about success. Was does it mean to me?

When I was a chaplain I was successful because I loved what I did. I loved the title and the respect o received from people.

When I was in sales I was successful because of powerful titles and big paychecks

What do I consider success at this point in life? Internally, what would make me feel pride? Accomplishment? Happiness? All I can think is being validated by money. Success is making more money than I did the previous year. But that doesn’t speak to what I felt when I thought I saw the WIL. What made me feel self conscious? Unworthy? What would make me feel worthy?

I have had a good drive from Henderson to Barstow. Lost $20 in Primm but had fun. Coming into California I was sad at first. I realized I would no longer identify as Californian. Then memories of visiting before moving here nine years ago came back. I realized I could reclaim the energy. I could be a tourist. Still enjoy California without staying.

I feel a sense of relief at them momentZ back to the being paroled concept. I have finished my time here. I have enjoyed it. But the professional aspect has left me wanting.

When I was walking into the store I thought I saw the WIL. It wasn’t her but I wondered what I would do or say if I did run into her. My lack of professional pride has hurt my confidence. More than California, more than relationships I need to find my pride again

Not sure where I am going with this but wanted to get it down.

I walked by the mirror and noticed the skin on my neck is getting creppy (is that a word?) I then instantly thought “that another reason I was rejected by the WIL.”A little bath bomb of sadness went off in my head and washed over my insides. It was a stupid little off hand observation but it dropped depression on me.

Her loving me validated me. I don’t know if her rejecting me invalidated me or if I just don’t have that empowering assurance any more.

I am so tired of having to reconcile and honor the past. Make room for my feelings and experiences in utah. I am like a guy watching a football game and can’t stop saying how it was better ten years ago. Fuck. Let it go. Holding on proves nothing. I gain nothing. I am a prisoner to something that exists only in my mind. And I feel like shot because I even had to bother writing this post…all because I noticed I have old man neck