The Dispair of Rejection

(I am writing this almost a week after the fact because I’m pretty sure I would have gotten concerned calls from friends and suicide prevention hotlines if I had written about my immediate reaction. This is also why I don’t tweet: some things just need to be processed internally before they are broadcasted to the world.)

Every weekend I bake at least one thing and two weekends ago was the return on the oatmeal raisin cookies that Mrs. J absolutely devastated. One of the cookies ended up shaped like the African continent so I though that maybe it was a sign that maybe things were going to turn around soon and I was going to get a job soon.

I found out early Wednesday morning that I did not get the job with USAID that I interviewed for in late September. It took them three months and the onset of the Christmas season for them to decide that I wasn’t good enough (I don’t know if it was a good or bad thing that I already don’t have the Christmas sprit – something I’ll explain later). To say that I was depressed would be an understatement: I was completely and absolutely devastated and destroyed. I had a headache from holding back tears all day (and failing a good chunk of the time) since I was not only at the office that day, but was at the front desk answering the phones and greeting people. I felt like drinking all day to drown my sorrows and was a little afraid that it would end up having another 3 day bender like I did February 2008, but by the time I got to Mike’s house and made myself a drink I didn’t want to anymore and instead spent most of the night crying, sleeping and trying not to hurt myself. All I could do was think about the guy who committed suicide because he couldn’t find a job but then several companies called to schedule interviews while his family was preparing his funeral arrangements. I’m convinced this would happen to me too if I did kill myself but I wouldn’t do that for the simple reason I wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone and I doubt anyone would respect any wishes to just ignore my death and go on with their lives (plus I keep remembering that suicide is the cowards way out).

I will admit that I lost my faith in God that night and don’t really know where I stand anymore. I was never religious person because I think that most religion is man’s perversion of what is really wanted and I can’t accept anything that tells me that homosexuals are going to hell. I wouldn’t say that I was/am an atheist either because I believe that life is just too random for there not to be something causing it. I believe in something – just not sure what. But yet not getting this job hit me unexpectedly hard. I’ve overcome poverty, watching my dad beat my mom as a child, physical and emotional abuse from both of my parents, molestation from a family member, sexual assault from a (supposed) friend, my brother being murdered, being generally ignored and overlooked in life – I am just so sick of always having to be so strong and work so hard for everything when there are people who seem to get things so easily (I know I shouldn’t assume such things but it is what it is). I have worked my ass off my entire life and have had to deal with so much shit – why can’t anything ever come easily for me at least once? I wish I could get an answer to that. That is what my faith is depending on at the moment. That’s why I don’t know what to believe (in) anymore.

Ever since I got that email I have felt numb. I laugh if something is funny and feel some sort of sadness if something is sad (such as when I saw “The Blind Side” Friday), but I’m not the same as I was before I got that email. I had some sort of happiness or jollity in life: I smiled, joked with and talked to my fellow interns and others in the office and had a smile (or at least a smirk) on the inside. I wasn’t entirely happy because I didn’t have a paying job but at least I was enjoying myself at my internship and getting complements on work I’d never done before. Now I’m mostly just quiet, don’t have much to say, kind of flighty in mind and not really all there in conversation and kind of just want to be left alone. I hope this ends soon or this is going to be a even more depressing birthday than I already think it’s going to be. I miss the old, more vivacious me.

In retrospect, I kinda knew all along that I wasn’t going to get the job. Unemployed me doesn’t compare to people around my same age who work at the World Bank, the Department of Homeland Security and wherever else people who interviewed on other days than me and I left with the impression that the panel was either going to love me or think I was crazy because I went in as myself and laid all my cards on the table (and since I didn’t get the gig, I’m going to go with crazy). Whenever I meet people my age who want to work in government or politics, they usually come off as smug, self-absorbed, overly-confident douchebag assholes (with very few exceptions). I can’t stand these types of people: they are the same people I avoided in grad school and generally not the kind of people I want to work with but yet these are apparently the type of people the government wants and the type of people who get hired in general (but yet pretty much all of the FSOs I met at USUN were really nice, funny, down to earth, hard working people so I have no idea where this is all coming from). Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn’t focus on working for the government so much and should instead focus more attention on trying to find a job in the non-profit or private sector, but with the recession, there aren’t as many jobs there either. I believe this is what it’s like to be between a rock and a hard place.

Sometimes I wonder if I should take Scott D. up on his offer and either move in with him in Jersey City or maybe the two of us getting a place together in DC. It would get me out of my dad’s place, I would stop freeloading on Mike and the J’s in general, and I get the feeling that I’m ultimately am not going to find a job that I want and will make me happy here in Chicago, that although I have the resume and abilities, networking and being seen has more significance in DC. My only fear is that there is no guarantee I could find paid employment in DC considering I can’t seem to find anything in Chicago and I’ll have no support system there like I do here (what little I have anyway). Moving out there would be a giant blind leap bigger than I’ve ever taken before. But isn’t this the age in which I’m supposed to take big risks?

Just more decisions for the new year.