From march, unpublished

From March 18th.

I have hung onto the grief tightly, like a life ring .  It has changed me, and I have had to evolve to survive the oceans of pain and grief. I have tried to ignore the cold seeping into me as the stresses of the last several months have magnified my feelings, until I realized about two months ago that I had become  bitter, angry, and anxious.  

I am- possibly too late - taking time off of work to take care of myself, though I am not sure that this job fits me any more. I am not sure what fits me now, unsure of who I am and what I want in many ways.  I will need to make decisions about that soon. I crave the familiar, but find that I am in fear of the changes that the company is going through and how they will affect the smaller, more vulnerable business that we deal with. I find that when I try to think about this, waves come over me. Anxiety, making it hard to breathe. Fear of being unemployed. Fear that I won't find something better. Fear that it doesn't matter, that I will lose my job, my friends from work. Fear that if I don't lose my job, I will stay there in a place that has changed, and that has been so inconsistent in their policies. Will we raise the minimums? Should I bend over backwards for this customer, or will I need to say no? If I say no, will they complain to me, to my boss, to the board of directors? Screw up formulas and cost O* thousands of dollars. They want their products shipped before they're paid for? nope, says Melinda. They choose to work with us in development again, but only if they may buy their IP. No to O* about their IP. Yes to O* about their IP, but only if they pay a lot. No, they won't have to pay a lot, they will just have to buy a lot, more than they are ordering right now. So much whiplash, and that's just for one customer. How many products need to be reworked? How many customers won't make the new MOQ? How many businesses will fail due to our new policies?

I am trying to become a calmer, more open person. It's like a flower opening one petal at a time, but where I felt closed and choked a month ago, I can see rays of light sometimes now.