I Got Let Go From My Job At Lunch.

I just finished my taco salad and was about to get back to cold calling--my new least favorite thing--when I catch eyes with my manager.

I knew what was about to happen. She didn't even need to call me into her office and do the formalities. I knew I was being let go.

It feels like ages ago when I took the scary step to leave the hell hole that was zulily. To chose my recovery over a job. I felt so scared and yet so empowered.

The months that followed were full of me killing it in informational interviews, sucking up to recruiters and then came the weekly in-person interviews--maybe a couple second interviews.

I was as fresh as a spring chicken. I had just said a big ol fuck you to the company that dragged me down for years and I knew I had so much to offer. I had passion, I am a killer writer, I am on tv, I model, I am a kick ass promo ambassador and I wanted to work--enough of this unemployment crap.

I wanted to be apart of something. I wanted to share my ideas. Improve the place I worked while improving who I was. I wanted to grow and learn.

This began to dwindle with the constant no's and hearing about my "lack of experience" with writing jobs. So I took at shot at sales--and the company I just left took a shot on me.

The first day was like being in junior high. I was clearly at a disadvantage and way out of my element. I was drowning in information, overwhelmed with the material and incredibly insecure. I lost sight of who I was and all the work I had put into my recovery and my values. It seems as though the new me could not exist here.

I compared myself. I belittled myself. I stressed myself the fuck out. And on top of that the people I was talking on the phone with did too. Hang ups, no's, and other relentless negativity was not good for who I was trying to become.

I have to give it up to people in sales that can pull it off--you've got to have some thick skin and be incredibly competitive. Two things that I don't have and am totally ok with.

I have a ping of shame that I really did my best and it still didn't work out. Reading inspiring quotes every morning. Calling my boyfriend crying on breaks. Listening to my favorite music on my lunches. Revamping up every day, every hour trying to do the best I could.

Knowing that everyone is there now and sees my empty desk. Knowing I didn't make it. I don't know what they'll say but I guess it doesn't really matter.

I am really proud that I tried this. I have never done anything like this and I didn't have the support of my treatment team at all during it--and well I still don't. I did give it my all and while it's shameful to me that my all wasn't enough--I know that if I gave up I'd be even more mad at myself.

The part that scares me shitless though is that I have no idea what to do now.

I have no income and I feel I have nothing to offer. I have no direction or idea as to what I want to do or what I am even qualified to do.

It became clear to me that I have no writing experience from being put in a box for three years at zulily. There seem to be no copywriting jobs out there that I do qualify for. And now after working my ass off for a month I can't put sales on my resume.

I don't even know what positions to start looking for, what to even say if someone asked me why me, I feel very empty, insignificant and helpless.

I don't know what the next step is for me or what I'm meant to do.

I know this isn't the first time I've written about this but before I had hope and now that's really dwindled.

This is when my faith in my higher power is tested and when I really have to take it hour by hour and look for omens.

I will keep my eyes and my heart open and my mouth shut--I think I've heard that's the best way to listen.