A year has passed

   I stood in my apartment, and listened to silence. I wanted to scream, but I had no voice. I wanted to cry, but had no tears. This can't be real. This couldn't happen to me. I have never even considered this. The earth had shaken underneath me, and I had no ability to cope. The bile was boiling in my throat. My hands were shaking, my heart was thundering in my chest. I could not sit down and I couldn't stand up. I could not calm down. My life had changed forever, only a couple of hours ago. I was drowning in the bloody reality of that moment. Please someone, somewhere make this not true.

    I was awoken at 9AM. "They are firing you. I need you to come in."

    "What?!?", I yelped, half crying and half screaming, "This has been my whole life! 12 years! I have never done anything else!"

    My boss was quiet on the other end of the phone. This ejaculated plea would haunt him for a long time after. He was powerless to help me.

     I gathered my emotions... packed up my pride. I drove to the building that I called home for 12 years for the last time. As I drove, my stomach was very sick, cramping to hold back. If I didn't, I would have had an epic loss of control.

    The building had two options, employee parking in the back and visitors in the front. I parked in the front, because for the first time since 1997, I was no longer an employee.

    Standing in my apartment later, I was still unable to speak. It's like I missed my chance. I wanted to finally lose control, finally release that pressure. I couldn't. My stomach was still cramped and I could not get past the panic, trapped in a limbo where I was suffering every single second of the day.

    I got to the office, my boss tried to calm me. I don't remember what I said exactly, but I remember spitting out something like: "Just let me have some dignity." He just looked at me and said something like "None of us expected this."

    We walked into the GM's office, everyone quiet. It didn't get much louder in her office. Just a lot of people staring at the ground in front of them. Luckily for all of us, we walked out and didn't want to talk about it. I grabbed my firing letter and severance agreement. The only thing I wanted was to out of there.

    I was still standing in my apartment. Frozen. I was desperate to feel better in some way, but there was no relief available. I really wanted to bawl my eyes out, it seemed like it would have helped, but no tears would come. I swear to God, had a jumbo jet come crashing down on me at that exact moment I really would not have been surprised.

    I had gone to sleep as me, and woke up a completely different person. In one swift movement, my soul had crushed, scattering shards for miles. The pieces were too small and too far strewn to ever pick them up.

    I don't remember how long I stood there. Part of me still is. As I stood there, a part of me died. I had loved my life, loved my job. I smiled wide and felt warmed by the people I saw every day. As I stood there, absorbing the silence, that happy part of me began to seize. I could feel it gasping for air. All I thought as I stood there is "Please. Please. Someone somewhere make this not true."

    It's been a year. I have had my ups and downs, some much worse than that day. through all of it the part that stands out the most is when I came home to silence. The morning was violent, at a speed that you can't see. It was when I got home and stood in silence that the wave came over me.

    So why did I open this issue again? Why expose my bare skin, display my wounds and run my fingers across to see how much it still hurts? Not really sure. I think about standing there almost every day. I was paralyzed for what seemed like endless oceans of time. I only remember bits and pieces of what transpired in the following... months. I don't remember Christmas, or any other holiday. I remember pictures, like looking at a slide show of someone's life. I also don't remember when I came to. I can confirm it was somewhere around January... I think.

    A little over a week ago, I started to thaw. The scab started to fall off. I have been aware of my surroundings the whole time, yes. But a part of me that was very much asleep, stirred and kicked. I felt the ability to think clearer, not constantly fogged by the heat of distraction.

    I am not complete yet. Not by a mile. I was buried a year ago, and I laid alone in a very dark place unable to move and any movement would only further seal my fate. So I started digging. Clawing my way out of this pit. I have thrashed wildly, but the only gasps attempted filled my lungs with mud. After a year, there is some progress. I am not scared as much as I was. I have a long way to go, still miles to dig. The ghosts of anxiety still pay me a visit now and again. Recently, there has been a beam of hope. I see light poking me through the dirt I thought was my grave.

And hope is the only thing I was desperate for.

Comments

[Carson Lee]

Still hurts, still miss the fuck out of our show, still have dreams that that day never happened, and I still miss my radio partner and best friend.

[Brian Beddow]

I was the one that made that phone call at 9am that woke you. For a week it was all I could think about - all I could hear in my head. You totally did not deserve it and I was powerless to help you. It sucked. In the months that followed - you were denied unemployment and the nation descended into the biggest recession since the Great Depression. Leaving you (and Carson) out in the cold (literally in Flint). I have been and will always be one of your biggest fans - but even I was unprepared for the manner in which you dealt with the adversity that would come your way. You were a constant source of positive thinking and energy. I can remember waiting in my apartment in the throws of February for you to come pick me up to do the podcast - thinking between the 2 degree weather and the fact that you had been denied ANY money from Unemployment AGAIN - you'd be really down. You would show up characteristically late - with a Tim Horton's Coffee and your typically alluf (sp?)smile....the windshield barely visible from the snow and ice. No attitude...no "woe is me"...You'd be the one supporting me - reminding me that all of this was only temporary. I have known you for more than 11 years - I was proud of you when you were my star weekender and swing jock, proud of you when as Promotions Director you helped me put things in motion that made 101.5 evolve into a great radio station, proud of you when you took over nights and had your 33 share - and proud of you when you ruled Afternoons with #1 ranks and put the only compelling content on the air in Flint. But I have never been as proud as I have been watching you deal with the unemployment, deal with the denial of benefits, deal with Utica, deal with losing Meghan and deal with moving to DC. And of course I am quite pleased that you are once again making me look like a genius at Metro Traffic for suggesting you! Eric you a remarkable man and a remarkable friend - and I am so glad to see you putting this behind you as tough as I know it can be - and I am thrilled to still be part of the path.