Masking My Emotional Pain; Burying it Deep Within
My heart sank & I could feel the pressure from the lump in my throat. I had to leave the house, get in the car, and get away. No matter how hard I tried to stuff the sadness deep down; I cried & I sobbed. Moments before jumping in the car to escape my emotions, I saw a post on Facebook. It was a really great photo of six talented people who I used to work with. Each one of them worked for me no less than ten years at KCCI and some I had known much longer. The caption on the photo read, “Lunch today with these amazing people I call family #kccisales #workfamilylove”.
That post hit me like a semitruck because I was not included; forgotten. I realized that I was not part of that family anymore. The post was an obvious & cruel message that I am not part of that friend group. I was not invited to lunch. The picture hurt, but the words that captioned the photo hurt more. The comments that proceeded were also sharp reminders that I am not included anymore. Comments like: “great group” “first class crew” “great group of friends” “forever friends” “good looking family”. I am not part of the group, the crew, the friends, or the family.
Loneliness is different than being alone. Being alone is something I can enjoy, but the feeling of being an outcast, not wanted and forgotten is a horrible feeling. The thought that the people you once cared for deeply no longer care for you is an emotional hurt that is hard to explain, a sickness. This awful feeling quickly brought me back to my last days as General Sales Manager at KCCI when I felt like a leper (which I am sure is a form of PTSD).
I vividly remember the company’s President & CEO who was visiting the station a month before “the deadline” shaking the hand of our Local Sales Manager who would later take my job not two weeks after my last day; I remember so vividly because he did not shake my hand. I was not vaccinated. For that same reason, I no longer work in the industry which was my identity for 20 years. The people, the job, the committees, the clients I surrounded myself with for decades were gone; disappeared. The laundry list of my successes, talents and work ethic did not matter. My vaccination status mattered more and cost me my career & my livelihood. A year prior I was being showered with Dom Perion, gifts, cards & bonuses for setting record revenue in 2020 despite the various obstacles that COVID had brought that year.
The last several months that I worked for KCCI from the time we went back into the office in May of 2021 until the day I left; had me masking, social distancing, and testing weekly because of my vaccination status. I was one of a very few (the minority) and it made me feel like a leper. It was not just the daily health questionnaire all employees had to participate in before starting their workday or the protocols the unvaccinated secretly had to take, but it was the tone of corporate communications that was suddenly different and made me feel small and insecure. Emails and conversations were less positive and less business-as-usual. All communication was more distant and put-offish as we neared the “deadline” which would determine my fate. Even the HR Director who was my friend and confidant over the years was very vague yet overly professional as she probed about my vaccination status behind closed doors and repeatedly asked why I felt the way I felt. I cried often in those months feeling very lonely and discriminated against.
I hate to cry; absolutely hate it. I do not want to draw attention to myself for being sad (or depressed) and I absolutely do not want to invite a pity party. I hate feeling vulnerable, but moments like this are really hard to cope with. I try hard to shove those bad feelings down deep and hide how I feel from everyone around me, including my husband and kids. I write as a form of therapy and to give my readers a personal perspective. There are people that hurt and most of them hide their hurt. We all need to be aware of this.
Those six beautiful people pictured in that post were part of my world: my work family. Only one of them still works at KCCI. Through the years each one of them received a carefully & well-thought-out written nomination letter (if not two) from me to the Hearst corporate team as candidates for the Hearst Eagle Award. I hired two of them and helped plan retirement parties & gifts for the others. I kept three of these folks from their futures being freed up whether they realize it or not. I was a shield from corporate and upper management bull shit to them all. And I was not invited to lunch. I am not part of their family anymore. Regrettably, a few of those captured in that photo haven’t made any effort to reach out to me since my departure on November 20, 2021, not to mention some of my long-time colleagues who still work for the station, which whom I’ve worked with for decades. It makes me sad and quite miserable at times. As their manager, I worked really hard for those people, and I’ve been forgotten.
Elon Musk stated in an article I just read, "I would rather go to prison than fire good people who didn’t want to be jabbed". No matter what your opinion of Elon Musk is, I wish someone in Hearst leadership would have stood up for me like that two years ago. Hell, I wish that at least one of my coworkers had the courage to support me. But no one did then, and no one seems to give two shits about me now.
I do not regret my decision and would not go back and change it. I know it was medically and religiously the right decision for me. But every decision comes with consequences. I lost a big income and a successful career, but what hurts the most are the “friends and family” I lost in the process. That is what makes me sad. That is what makes me cry when no one is watching.
