Things that keep you anchored when things are going to fecal matter

This was going to be entirely different blogpost. I may still finish the original one day, when I started writing it was going to be humourous piece on feelings forming for a female friend, and how as an adult the only time a ‘crush’ should exist (ie; when you having feelings for someone and don’t man up and tell them about it) is when the person you have feelings for is in a relationship (which the girl in question did), thus revealing how you feel would not really be beneficial and would mostly create drama. (not to mention a surefire trip to the abyss) There’s also professional reasons not to make a move if you work with them, even then there are situations where it’s probably safe to. (however inadvisable)

It was going to be a slightly gutsy post because while I changed/fictionalized some details to cover my arse there was a semi-high possibility she’d actually read this and probably put two and two together and figure it was her. Despite that I was going to humorously reflect on my views on the situation were different from me of ten years ago.

I had about the half the post written up, I thought it was good, and then I got made redundant from my job and everything kind of went to shit.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected. We knew the company had been bought. We knew there’d be changes. Once that paperwork went through for the merger the redundancy axe went swinging and landed directly on me. For the first time since I’d finished school I was unemployed and that scared the crap out of me. Not to mention a week earlier my car had breathed it’s final gasping breath. (though I’d rather humourously managed to sell it online for a $200 despite listing everything wrong with it in the ad.)

First day after it happened I was pretty destroyed. I literally avoided driving over certain bridges because I was concerned that the temptation to pull over and jump off would be a little too great. The spiral of self hate was pretty epic.

Poor old blindly optimistic Liam had disappeared. The kind of blind optimism that fueled some of the craziest adventures. Running 1000 miles. Becoming a marriage celebrant. Writing a book about tracking down and interviewing every girl he ever had a crush on.

The blind optimism that even made the long shot “no chance in hell” ideas that failed fun. Gaining 29 inch biceps in a year. Inviting that girl I’d had a crush on years earlier (who was nine years my senior) to my 30th birthday party despite her violently bad reaction to my book. (“I’ve seen ‘the Right Kind of Wrong’ okay! Beautiful things that seem impossible happen everyday!” I would adamantly declare to disbelieving friends.)

But that moment the redundancy axe landed on me, there was no blind optimism. My blindly optimistic self had taken a vacation to Alaska.

I had a lot of friends and family looking out for me, and that’s probably good because two things managed to bring me back to a close approximation of my old self.

On the Monday afternoon was when I’d been told about being made redundant. We had the Tuesday off to deal. Wednesday those that were leaving had to come in for their final ‘bullet to the head’ meeting as I jokingly called it. (I was later informed this may have been in bad taste)

The first thing that saved me happened on Tuesday afternoon, I want to talk about here, I really do, but feel the friend involved would prefer I keep it quiet, for fear of his own embarrassment.  Suffice to say it was an act of great kindness that stopped me from descending to the darkest depths of despair in my mind.

The second thing was the wedding I did on the following Saturday.

I became a celebrant five years ago, while the idea had always appealed to me, it wasn’t until an offhand dare from a friend caused me to take action and actually do it that I actually took the course and registered with the Attorney-General’s office. (the latter being a remarkably painful process)

I’m not stressed during a wedding ceremony. I may be stressed getting to a wedding ceremony (but that could be a by-product of having a potentially untrustworthy vehicle for most of my celebrant life), but during a ceremony I’m all calm. Once I’m there the worst is over and I’m making do.

In a week where nothing seemed right, and everything was uncertain, and I felt so much that I didn’t know what to do, I found myself with in a situation where I was sure, I was steady, I knew what to do. People looked at me for instruction. I was confident. I was balanced. I was calm. Weddings were MY world. My ball park. No one could take that away from me.

I flirted with a pretty girl. (Just flirted… nothing more…. from experience it’s unprofessional to do otherwise, but that is a story for another blogpost)  I hummed along to the last of the couples chosen wedding music as they started taking photos and I packed up my gear.

When friends and family saw afterward they could see a difference. I wasn’t a totally broken person anymore. When an organised temp job fell through later that week I was okay.

I was well on my way to being back to my old self. I’m not totally there yet but I’m pretty close.

I’ve got a casual job doing data entry work, so I won’t starve and or go homeless.

My friends. My family. Being a celebrant. These are my anchors. The things that keep me sane when everything is falling apart. And for that, I will be forever grateful.


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