Not Again, Never Again

I have wondered of late why Boy Wonder is so intense. Well, more intense than usual. He's pushing me a little hard and I think he's going to push me more. Fine. Push me. Sometimes I kind of like it.

This afternoon, I was in his office. We were looking over a project plan with an ambitious schedule (as all project plans are at Unnamed Co.).

I said, "You're concerned about meeting dates."

He said, "Damn right I am. If this falls apart, we'll all be looking for another job. You know we've got a new CEO and if he doesn't get the results he wants - "

But it didn't matter what else Boy Wonder said. The world fell away from me or maybe I fell away from it. Numbly, I nodded and went back to my cube.

I can't go through that again. I can't. I can't, I won't, oh, God, I can't bear it again.

My back turned toward the world and with absolutely no fear of interruption since no one ever comes by to talk to me except Boy Wonder, two tears slid down my cheeks. Then two more.

I was done for the day, crashed hard.

I cannot do this again. I cannot face unemployment, I cannot cope with no medical insurance and that never ending worry, oh, Jesus.

Two more tears slid down. I was doing that Casablanca kind of crying where it's just hot tears in tracks down your face, no nose involvement.

I checked myself in the mirror. No difference.

I went back into Boy Wonder's office. "I have a favor to ask," I said. "If you have to do this, if you ever know something like this is coming, let me know as soon as you can, if they'll let you."

"I would never -", he said, looking stunned.

"Sometimes you don't have a choice. I understand that. But let me know if you can." And I walked away.

I have been crying ever since, in spates. The same Casablanca tears.

Ari the Therapist says I have basically what amounts to work Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He says it kind of jokingly, but neither of us thinks it's especially funny.

The sight of True Boss's or Boy Wonder's closed door sends me into an utter panic, since this was how it was done at the company that broke my heart. On the last Friday in September, my boss's door was closed most of the day, a rarity. Then she asked me into her office. When I got there, the CEO was sitting there with a folder in his lap. I immediately knew what was going to happen. Within half an hour, I was out the door with a cardboard box in my hands.

Ever since then, wherever I work, I make sure I have nothing more in my desk than can fit in a small cardboard box. And a closed door panics me.

I can't do this again. I won't do this again. I can't. I won't.