Recently I had an interview with a well funded tech startup. I was very excited about the prospect of once again working in Toronto, not to mention such crass concerns as salary and benefits.
And lets not forget to add a sense of self worth and dignity but who is counting.
Despite much research and planning the interview didn’t go anything like I expected, good or bad. Rather it turned out worse than I could have imagined. The interviewer and I seemed to be speaking different languages. I usually do well in interview situations and I am still trying to unpack what went wrong in this case.
I left the interview knowing in no uncertain terms that I did not get the job. I also had the distinct impression that I was old, useless and obsolete.
I have faced disappointment before but this one hit me really hard. I thought I was in a good position with the skills and experience the company needed as well as a positive reference from a friend on the inside. I felt that I had let myself and more importantly my friend down by my poor performance.
Even worse was the feeling of hopelessness. In the aftermath I felt I would never get out of my low paying "transitional” job and my career permanently stalled. I believed that I should be put out on the ice flow and unburden society from my useless presence.
I lay on the floor of my room wanting nothing more than numbness to claim me body and soul. I wanted to swallow all my sleeping pills to run Corvette in the garage. Jeez, I make it sound like my life is kinda dramatic no?
For the first time I had doubts about transition....purley economic ones....Im not that crazy yet.
Sometimes I wish I could just run away, cash in my remaining assets and go live in the South of France till the money runs out then walk into the Mediterranean.
Thankfully both genetic and trans girlfriends were there for me. Alice called, Sasha took me for coffee and Cass and I Skyped late into the night.
The hopelessness faded to be replaced by a deep sadness and anger. I am told I am resilient, fearless, I don’t know if that is true but it seems a curse not being able to give to have no other choice but to keep fighting.
The next day and the day after, I continued to “bear the unbearable” I got up and went to the job that is an utter waste of my talents and later headed to the house that is no longer mine to see my children.
For better or worse I keep fighting.....
