A lot has changed since my last post...
I started a "dream" job at Downstream, working with super talented designers and developers, and working on unique, one-off (bespoke) applications. After three attempts to land a job there, I finally made it... or so I thought.
Six month into the gig and feeling renewed because all the perseverance from the past few years had paid off, it all came to an abrupt end. I was getting my head wrapped around a new maintenance/hardware upgrade project. I was one of the first employees in the office as was not uncommon. (I got the sweet parking space in front of the building and security cameras.) I got a Teams message from the HR/Accounting person whom I hadn't interacted since I signed all my on-boarding paperwork, asking me to meet her in the Conference Room A. When I got there, she and a manager from the Realtime teams sitting ominously across a large desk. They motioned for me to sit down.
I was getting laid off. I went numb. Was this real? They said it wasn't performance related the seemingly profitable agency was having to make some "difficult staffing cuts". I took my fob from out of my pocket and slid it across the desk and the HR person handed me my final paycheck. I floated back to my desk and began packing my personal things in the bag I always took to the office. I gathered my laptop and power supply and took it to the IT guy's area and left it on his seat. Dutifully, I took my half drunk cup of cold coffee to the kitchen, rinsed it out in the sink, and put it in the dishwasher. I took a quick glance of the break room for the last time.
A hardware guy who'd been really helpful was in a meeting. None my actual team was in the office. I didn't have a computer to message them and it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to break the news directly. I quietly got up, pushed my chair in, and left.
I was due for my quarterly blood work so I drove out to Providence and sat in the lab waiting room for my turn. I sent a short message to the PM and lead developer thanking them for my time on the team. I probably should have waited longer but I thought they'd wonder where I was when they arrived in the office and wasn't at the meeting.
I didn't tell anyone. I don't remember what I did for several days but I was still in shock. I remember rolling up my quarters, dimes, and nickels, a mindless task that also meant some funds. My dream job was over just like that.
The next few months
I took care to re-establish my health insurance through CareOregon and filed an unemployment claim but I was mostly on autopilot. I didn't even tell my mom for over a week.
I began looking for another job and doing what was required for UI benefits. It wasn't until a couple of claims were denied that I realized I'd missed a step or two to be eligible. I made an appointment at the local benefits office and completed the process. Finally, the claims were approved but it was hardly enough to live on, less than my mortgage payment.
Not long after, Twitter announced massive cuts and other tech firms followed suite. The job postings were flooded with applicants and I got not responses. The next few months is a blur.
In the new year, I was still determined to land another tech job. I worked on my portfolio projects, did some networking, and tried to learn test automation. I also took 80% of Indeed skills tests to see what other jobs I might be a good fit, i.e. non-QA jobs.
I even reached out to my former boss and other QA colleagues from CBSI about job search tips and how to retool my resume and application process so I could cut through the competition. Deep down my heart really wasn't in it. I was going through the motions. I saw my savings dwindle and was losing faith in myself. Still I was determined to keep at it until my UI ran out, I had to. I just needed one employer to offer me a job. I'd survived the before and ended up with two jobs in 2022. I defied my own lack of self confidence and kept applying, even just to continue to qualify for UI.
I contacted the realtor my mom recommended but put things on hold. I wasn't ready to throw in the towel. My chance I landed an "extra" gig in movie.. well, actually they didn't want me, they wanted my car. Nevertheless, it was fun in a way. We ate with the rest of the cast and crew and I felt like I was part of the production in a tiny way. It was good to have a temporary purpose for a few days. Those three days were really long. I'd show up in the mid-to-late afternoon and sat inside City Liquidators reading, napping, eating, talking with the others who lent their cars for the background. It was pretty cool to see so many people and film equipment, gear trucks, catering trucks, etc. We were release in the wee hours of the morning; 2am the first "night", 3am the next, 3:30a on the last day. I was getting paid to sit in the dark. I don't even think my car was in many of the shots but it would have been disruptive to try to get the cars out as they moved the camera, gear, crane, etc.
That was a brief respite from the reality of my situation.
As my eligibility for UI was coming to an end, I knew the depletion of my resources would accelerate.
I reached out to that realtor and "got the ball rolling". I was a tough pill to swallow and took an enormous toll on me. Acute depression and anxiety set it. I began preparing to pack up everything I owned without really having a place to go. My mom has a cluttered finished attic with a little corner I could put a sleeping pad but it was far from a "room" or place to live, esp. in contrast to my house.. my home, my sanctuary.
Dark times
I was only able to put in a few hours a day, packing, organizing before I had to sit or lay on the couch, my stomach churning from anxiety.
I used Facebook to ask for help from my friends to help me pack and organize. I got a lot of heart and thumbs-up emojis but not actual help. Two people said they would help but never followed up. I really felt alone.
Somehow I muddled through, taking load after load of poorly packed and labeled boxes of my things to a storage space nearby. I hated walking the halls. I remember that feeling of elation a few years early when I finally cleared out the storage space I'd rented after moving from 66th to Tupelo and moved everything to this house and garage. Now I was moving everything to another one. This time was worse, I wasn't moving from a place of isolation to a vibrant neighborhood of Mississippi Ave. I don't know where I'm going to live or how I'll support myself.
Getting my house ready for RMLS photos and ready show was an enormous task and gut wrenching but I did it. I had to have the carpets stretched, a cleaning crew do the whole house, and fix-it guy and his helper patch holes and fix the doors. More expenses.
Meanwhile, I was listing my furniture on Marketplace and reluctantly sold my things to strangers. It was hard to look at the spaces in those rooms where my stuff used to be.
A glimmer of hope
Somewhere along the way I stumbled on the Mt St Helens Institute and enrolled to be new volunteer. It gave me purpose and restored some self confidence. I attended a few Zoom meetings, an in-person, all-day session at the Visitor Center in Castle Rock, and an all-day session at the Science and Learning Center at Coldwater. I even went out there to camp the night before and met the Volunteer Coordinator and a couple others. I still kept to myself though, still unsure of myself.
I do remember unlocking a gate, driving through, and locking it back up. A USFS person came to investigate then realized I was there on "official business". It made me feel like I was part of something cool. A purpose.
I was still pretty shy at the group training with 50 other volunteers and USFS and MSHI staff. I did meet my hiking steward mentor. I was in his group for our "practice" hike around the Hummocks. It felt good. I remember leading the group and proactively volunteering to talk about the mountain and surroundings and answer questions from other volunteers acting as "the public". I'd forgotten about my job woes, the fact I was selling my house.
The following week, I met my mentor and two other mentees near Ape Cave for our training session. More forward, positive progress. I was starting a journey towards something new. Something that made me feel good and give me purpose.
I still fell into periods of depression and anxiety. I thought things like this that replenish my self-confidence go into a cup but it has holes and it drains. In other periods of my life, the cup still had holes but there weren't as many and they were smaller so it drained much more slowly. I remember feeling despair almost the next day after that weekend at SLC and after the mentor session.
Not so fast
It seems despite my effort to restore some confidence, it wasn't lasting. I was mired in house sale tasks and I had some unexpected repairs on the Jeep. This was in addition to the new tires I'd had to get in early spring and a faulty thermostat. At the mentor session, I'd discover the mount for my rear stabilizer shock was broken on the left side. The same thing had happened on the right side in 2021.
A week later, I drove out to Camas to eat dinner and just go for a drive to clear my head and get away from the house that was stacked with boxes and no longer my home. I did a u-turn and the traction warning light came on. Weird, the pavement was dry. It came on again when pulled into the parking space. I turned off the engine and back on. The warning light persisted. Not good.
After I ate, I pulled out of the space and drove a few hundred feet and the light finally turned off. What now!?!?!? Gills Point S, Everett St, Goodyear all couldn't get me in for 1-2 weeks. I found a place on Sandy and took it there. I'd just been there and they reinstalled my rear stabilizer shock. The problem was diagnosed but I'd have to come back a few days later as the part had to be ordered. A faulty speed sensor.
While they were able to give me an appointment quickly, I found myself waiting several hours before they even started the work. I was prepared with MSHI materials, a book, and my phone. The sensor was replaced and I was finally on my way.
I drove back home via side streets and up N. Interstate. I drove past the apartment building on Skidmore. I heard a horrible noise from the front wheel where the sensor was replaced. It echoed off the building. I got out and inspected it but didn't know what to look for. I drove forward a bit more.. a terrible scraping noise. FUCKKKKKKKKKKK! I immediately, those idiots didn't put my wheel back on correctly. There was no way I could drive back to the shop. I was shivering with anxiety. I found a parking space in the shade and called the shop. No answer. I called again.. nothing. I must have made 4-5 calls. I called a AAA and requested a tow truck. I called the Jeep dealer repair shop and left a message. I called Goodyear and scheduled an inspection for the following week. I finally reached the shop and told them was had happened. It was getting late but I hoped I could get there in time. Maybe it was something simple.
After over an hour, I hadn't heard from a tow company and called AAA again. My request had still not been accepted by any tow company yet but assured me it would happen soon. Time was running out to get to the shop before they closed.
Finally I heard from a tow truck driver and he arrived 15 mins later. I had less than 40 mins to get back to Firestone. I was nervous from the time and seeing my poor Jeep hoisted up. I climbed into the passenger seat and made nervous small talk. I had one eye on the side mirror, hoping that I didn't witness my Jeep unhitch and crash into a retaining wall. Nope. The driver had done a good job securing the vehicle, not his first or second or tenth rodeo.
When we arrived at the shop, all the bays were closed and there wasn't room to pull into the driveway. I hopped out and went inside the waiting room while he circled the block and deposited my car in the overflow lot.
Just two mechanics remained. I calmly explained what had happened and did my best to hide any semblance of blame. He asked if I felt okay to drive it over for them to take a look. I ran back and finished up with the tow truck driver and thanked him.
As I drove over, I didn't hear anything. The mechanics stood next to my car and I tried to reproduce the noise. Nothing. The mechanic that did the work and the senior tech shrugged but notice the backing plate looked a bit snug and made an adjustment. They asked me to drive around the block to see the problem would happen again. It didn't. I drove over pothole and rough patches of road on purpose. No noise.
I arrived back at the shop and we all shrugged. Maybe a rock had become wedged next to the brake pad but had fallen out between N Interstate and the tow over there. I thanked them for taking a look a bit after hours and felt like they done the responsible thing.
I drove cautiously home. My confidence in the Jeep was compromised. I don't know if it was on this drive or another day but I remember flinching when the low fuel light came on and bell rang. My nerves were on edge.
I kept my appointment at Goodyear. I figured they'd give it a once-over and send me on my way.
When I returned a couple hours later to get my car, they said the brake pad was scratched but not seriously damaged. I thought "geez" I'd driven 80K miles on all kinds of roads without issue. Now in the last few months, I've suffered a flat on a forest road from a single bullet shell, a faulty traction sensor, and now a rock. Oh, one more tidbit. They guy that checked me out at the front desk said the technician "thought" there was a leak in the rear axle, somewhat unusual for such a low mileage Jeep and mostly on-road use. He suggested I get a second opinion because he was new to the shop and didn't know how savvy the techs were.
Great. Yet another fucking appointment. I scheduled an appointment back at Gills. I thought it must have just happended or the Firestone guys had missed it when I was there the previous three times for the stabilizer/differential check, the sensor diagnosis, and subsequent installation. I had to wait several days.
I got there for my appointment, hoping against hope, that the Goodyear guy was wrong. Nope. I had a leak and it was an inexpensive part but costly fix since it required disassembling the right side of the axle. I hoped they knew what they were doing. I'd have to come back the following week and leave it there for several hours.
In the time between appointments I was unable to drive nor take care of any moving tasks. Also, there seemed to be little interest in my house. At each of the weekend open houses, only one party showed up and neither were interested. I had couple more showings during the week but this added fuel to my anxiety. The repair costs were mounting and the end to my home sale was a mirage.
My realtor assured me that "things would happen" but also said we might have to lower the price. Dammit. I had wrongly assumed the market would be "hotter" but knew it had taken me a lot longer to it ready for market and thought I'd missed the window.
I remember trying to feel better by riding the bus from Kenton Park to St John's, then a transfer to another line to get to the steep climb up BPA Road. I ended up doing quite a hike. It felt good to escape for awhile and work on my hiking fitness.
Finally!
There was weekend showing after I'd dropped the price. I could tell from the doorbell camera that they'd only stayed for 15-20 mins. Surprisingly, this party wanted to make an offer. Yes!
However, the offer was $10K less than my asking price and a long closing. My immediate reaction was "fuck no" but my realtor convinced me to counter offer. I didn't have the luxury of time to wait for another buyer. I had to give something up. I thought I'd rather have a shorter close but give up the money but at the last minute, I opted for half the discount but the same long close. It made more sense and it gave me more time in the house, albeit on the couch.
We still had the inspection period. While it was new construction, there was bound to be a few issues that would come up. Because I had to be out of the house, I decided to go for a hike. Somehow, out by June Lake I had cell coverage. My realtor sent me a message that I could go home and that nothing major had come up. Whew.
MSHI volunteering
After all the training sessions and mentoring back in June and early July, I finally decided I needed to sign up for roving shift. I'd already had to cancel a shift at SLC due to car issues.
I did it! I had a great down on Road 83 and talking to visitors and doing a hike up Ape Canyon. I submitted my report and gotten encouraging feedback from my mentor. I was feeling like I was making progress.
Long road to recovery
Unfortunately, the cup still had holes and I woke up several mornings with crippling anxiety. I had finally gotten an appointment with a therapist.
For the first two hour-long sessions I talked non-stop. I just needed to be heard, to get things out. I felt better even though the therapist said almost nothing. She was good listener. I felt like I needed to give this background so that I felt any advice given was well informed, well founded.
I did a mentor session at Ape Cave somewhere in there was increased my confidence about volunteering with MSHI. I hiked the upper cave and felt extremely accomplished.
I also signed up for an ambassador shift with Trailkeepers of OR and a trail work party to get more familiar with Latourell Falls.
I was finally doing the things that I'd been working towards at the beginning of the summer.
My future is still ambiguous but there is some hope that it will work out.
Just a few days ago, amidst record heat, I booked my second solo shift on the 83 Road. I also reserved a cabin at Pine Creek the night before.
In order to beat the afternoon heat, I drove out early, not long after my Monday therapy session. I stopped at Eagle Cliff Park for lunch. After eating, I sat down by Pine Creek and felt some of my stress evaporate. I wandered around more and meditated a little. Later, I drove up to McClellan Viewpoint and basked in the sun and view of the mountain. My role with MSHI gives me a greater sense of connection to this magnificent place. Plus, I had a real responsibility to try to prevent any heat-related mishaps during my shift.
When it was time, I drove down the cabin and was curiously greeting by Joe, the EMT stationed next the the cabins. When he saw my red MSHI hat, he immediately dropped his guard and was very welcoming. We talked for 15 mins or more while he gave me the low-down on the place and helpful tidbits. He said he let me get settled and would be back to check out my first aid kit.
After I was settled in, I sat outside the cabin with my training materials and reviewed my notes. I also made sure everything that was inventoried on the outside of my first aid kit was indeed inside.
Joe came back and we hung out for a couple of hours. I really feel like I belonged. I was truly a member of this community of volunteers and the wider group of individuals that steward this area and the monument.
I had rough night with the heat and occasional strange noises outside in the otherwise tranquil area. I woke up and contemplated my roving shift later that morning. I walked down to the water and walked along the shoreline. This is what I'd been missing and needed. I was the most at peace that I'd felt in a long time, years probably. All that mattered was right in front of me. I lingered for a long while. I didn't want it to end but I was also excited to start my shift.
I walked back to the cabin, packed my stuff, and went to bathroom to shower and get ready. I also took time to clean the toilet and sink area. I also swept, careful not to hurt the spiders and other bugs that were taking refuge inside. The shower was cold but it was refreshing. I took some cleaning supplies back to the cabin and wiped everything to sanitize it. I wanted to leave the place better than I found it, taking inspiration from my hiking mentor.
I had a great day in the monument and felt fulfilled.
I still have a lot of insecurity about what the next few months will look like. I'm anxious about living with my mom. My love affair with Portland is coming to a quick end. My mom's insecurities affect me but I have to make it work. Financially, I don't have much choice. I hope the therapy can give me the tools and courage to make some tough but meaningful choices.
We shall see...
