Read time: 5 min.

I start a new job today. That’s a sentence I’ve waited more than seven months to write! Since I was unexpectedly laid off during wn overwhelming downsizing in early December, this has been the hardest stretch of my life. I’ve been unemployed before, but never in a market this unforgiving- and never while navigating so many personal hardships all at once.

I haven’t written about the last seven months here aside from mentioning it in passing, but here goes. As the production planner at my previous job, I scheduled seventy-two million pounds of plastic pellet production across five manufacturing lines, managed inventory and scrap, annually recovered nearly two million pounds of nonconformance, and reduced inventory coverage from seventeen days to twelve. Unfortunately, the Italian company lost a major contract and let go of most of its American workforce. I was one of many who got swept up in the whirlwind. 

I was fortunate to receive a generous severance package, but I didn’t waste any time. I threw myself into the job search and applied for positions in production planning, supply chain, quality, and marketing. Friends, family, former coworkers, and professional contacts offered encouragement, recommendations, and support, and I was grateful. The search itself, however, was discouraging. Some applications were rejected almost immediately. Others vanished without a response. More than once, companies rejected me only to repost the exact same position days later.

Then my health insurance ended sooner than it should have. For a month, I went without insulin for a month before I learned about the free clinic at the homeless shelter, which helped bridge the gap until Medicaid kicked in. After my severance ran out but before unemployment benefits kicked in, weekly trips to the food pantry felt inevitable. When I finally qualified for unemployment, I was told that it took the average Hoosier between four and six months to find a new job. Month four came and went. Then month five. Then month six. 

Just when it felt like things couldn’t get much harder, they did when my stepdad unexpectedly died in April. Losing Jerry hit my family like a battering ram to the chest. It fundamentally changed our family in ways we’re still learning to understand. Meanwhile, I developed an infection that was misdiagnosed as being potentially life-threatening, so I headed to the hospital myself. After a painful month of outpatient treatment, it finally cleared up. 

I kept applying for jobs, updating my resume, writing cover letters, networking, and waiting for calls that never came. Eventually, I started to sell my belongings. First went tools and sports equipment. Then my video games. Finally, I sold my custom Pearl drum kit. After twenty-five years as a drummer, watching it leave felt like watching part of me disappear down the driveway. Even so, I made it through. There were some close calls, but the lights stayed on and the cats never missed a meal.

Meanwhile, friends and family stepped up when I needed them most. One generously helped keep my pantry stocked, and many of you supported my work through Ko-fi. Those donations occasionally funded history trips that probably weren’t the wisest financial decisions. However, they reminded me there was still joy to be found while I waited for life to turn around.

Ironically, the opportunity that changed everything appeared when I wasn’t even looking for one. My brother and I were cleaning out Jerry’s storage unit when we drove past a local, family-owned plastics manufacturer with a simple “Now Hiring” sign out front. One conversation led to an interview. That interview led to another. Before long, I had accepted an offer to become the company’s new quality tech. The role combines everything I’ve spent the last several years learning- quality, production planning, inventory management, and process improvement. It feels like exactly the right fit, and I’m excited to get started! 

As difficult as the past seven months have been, I’ve tried to look for something good in them. It wasn’t always easy, but now I can see a few unexpected blessings. More than anything, I’m grateful I was able to be there for my mom and spend so much time with my family after everything we’ve been through together this year. I also finally addressed several long-neglected health issues that would have been impossible to figure out if I were working. One lesson this season reinforced is that careers can disappear overnight, but relationships don’t. When everything else seemed uncertain, the people around me kept showing up.

To everyone who encouraged me, shared job leads, bought me a coffee on Ko-fi, read my blog, invited me to speak, or simply checked in- thanks. Your support carried me through one of the hardest seasons of my life. I’m under no illusion that everything will suddenly become easy. I have a huge financial hole to climb out of, and there will be plenty to learn in this new role. Still, for the first time in a long time, those are challenges I’m really looking forward to. Today, I get to start building back my life.