Pandemic Grief Meter

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance – otherwise known as five widely recognized stages of grief. Make no mistake, our pandemic world is mourning disruption of life as we know it. So where are you? Personally, denial and anger expired days before losing my job, bargaining served no purpose. Unemployment was met with pragmatic inevitability. So where am I a week after realizing I had no job? No indication when life might return to normal, no assurance employment insurance benefits could arrive in timely fashion? Have to admit I’m depressed.

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9 thoughts on “Pandemic Grief Meter

  1. Hard to give this post the ‘Like’ it well deserves. It will find too many good homes, and we ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.
    Once all the fur and feathers settle questions will be asked from all sides, and the term ‘over-reaction’ will slip glibly from multitudes of tongues. (Which won’t help the spreading despair as economies hit the buffers.)

  2. In the post 9/11 period, I had to lay off dozens of staff and was put on a “how to lay people off” course. We were taught SARA: Shock Anger Rejection Acceptance. We were also told not to leave the room until we had coached the poor person to the second A or risk suicide of the person…! Then there was the extended SARAH which had the H for Hope.

    It was a horrific time which extended right into the cash crisis of 2006. In the end I was so sick and depressed of laying people off that I quit myself and was out of work at the wrong time.

    As we know, this stuff always works out but it’s a killer while you’re in it. In the past I’d say, well, whatever happens, as long as you’re breathing it will be fine. But now, we can’t even say that. Live from day to day. Still have a job but my industry (airlines) has all but collapsed.

    OK, that’s hardly cheerful comment but I can’t say I’m very cheerful either. I’ve enrolled for some geeky math course to keep my brain challenged. And I’ve got a blog post brewing. Also brewed beer to see me through. Different story.

    • Truth is I don’t need the money, we’re set for as long as it takes. Trouble is I’m a workaholic whose strokes come from orchestrating perfection from a hill of beans. I thrive on impossible expectations, curveballs and ridiculous physical challenges for a woman of my age. Suddenly I find myself without deadlines, time restraints or mission to gain confidence of the wackiest client. That’s what depresses me. Sig.

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