Insight: You’re fired

Far too many are being fired these days. I’ve been fired. I’ve lived the feeling.
It was snowing hard when I landed in Chicago. It was so hard that I had to stay in the dismal airport Hilton, as no cabs were available. The next morning, I managed to get a ride to corporate headquarters, knowing full well that my visit wasn’t going to be fun.
My boss, the boss’s son, fired me before I could pull up a chair. He’d called me to Chicago, in the middle of winter, to fire me. Worse, I knew it was going to happen, I hated the job, and I should have quit months earlier.
Nevertheless, I felt the tears coming on. I don’t think I spilled any, but my point is, I felt the pain. I felt it despite my success. Despite all my experience, I was hit hard and down for the count.
There you have it. When we’re down, it’s hard to get up. Often impossible. To break free of the grip of desperation and depression is often impossible to do without the passage of time, reflection, and help from others.
Fired, laid off, let go, made redundant, terminated, or downsized out of a job, it hurts. It really hurts.
When we’re seeking work and are rejected, passed over, screened out, brushed off, or ghosted, it’s excruciating.
I know. I’ve been there. And in my work as an advisor to creatives, I see the effects, the damage –– if not daily, certainly weekly –– in my clients.
And during these low periods in my life, I’ve found myself alternating between feeling worthless and boiling with anger. At the worst, I’m so depressed that I can’t get off the couch, and alternatively, I’m so filled with rage that all I can think of is getting revenge. Neither is helpful.
In effect, when we’re hit with a trauma-inducing event, we go into fight, flight, freeze, or surrender mode. A useless state when we need to find a new source of income.
Job searching requires a plan. And it requires that we are in a mental state that allows us access to the cognitive and rational parts of our brain. Not only do we need a plan, but we also need to have the ability to follow through on the plan. And we can’t do that when all we can think of is our failures. Or getting even.
Job loss is a form of grief, encompassing identity, security, routine, and self-worth. The mind naturally gravitates toward those old, negative voices ( “you stupid little shit,” “you’ve never been any good”), echoes of childhood and past criticism. That looping keeps us stuck in shame rather than taking action.
So what to do?
Know the Reality of What Happened
“Losing a job isn’t proof I’m not good enough. It’s a business decision in a system full of stuff far beyond my control.”
“Being laid off says more about an unfeeling corporation than my worth.”
Take Small, Restorative Steps
Big plans (like “find a new job”) are impossible when your shame is screaming at you. But small, structured actions –– such as updating your resume, reaching out to one person, then another, and then a third –– can get a little bit of action going. Remember, you do have control of your own actions.
Remember Your Wins
Before scary meetings, I used to go to the men’s room, latch myself in a stall, and make a list of accomplishments that I knew others recognized. This action pushed the fear out of my frontal lobe and replaced it with confidence.
Just like my “bathroom stall accomplishments list,” anyone can benefit from writing down past wins, kind feedback from colleagues, or challenges they overcame. Reading that when the negative shit starts to flood reorients us. Works for me. Still does.
I’ve learned that when shame hits me, I want to be alone. I’m like a wounded tiger curled up in a cave, isolated, licking my wounds. That only extends the pain.
Now, I call or meet with someone I trust. Therapy has been an enormous help. I still go to a weekly group therapy session. The cost is low, and the benefit of seeing others’ struggles and sharing my own is rich with insight. Conversation and sharing normalize the experience and restore lost perspective.
Reframe the Conversation
Instead of “I was canned, therefore I failed,” think, “Those assholes just gave me a new life.”
Or more civilly, “I’m in transition, not broken.”
And most of all in my view: “I’m fucking in charge here. My value is not tied to them. My value is inside me.”
Once we put the shame aside, know the trauma, understand what trauma does to us, then and only then can we make and follow a plan.
I hope this is of some help.