I am so filled with disappointment; I’m not quite sure why I can’t let go. I know I should be happy to be alive as I am a three year Lymphoma survivor, but I am engulfed.
For months I was planning, dreaming, and visualizing being promoted to director of Delaware’s Division of Employment and Training (DET). I had good reason to think I was next in line; I thought the skids were greased.
I had my first meeting speech planned out, the agenda, which would highlight administrator responsibilities; I even had worked on a senior staff training plan, including white papers, decision matrices, and other staff products used by professional staffs. I knew exactly how I was going to upgrade the skills of all the workers, improve staff functions, and drive down the rate at which DET workers leave the organization. .
I had it. I had it all done. I had a clear vision how to make the organization better, workers happier, and improve services.
And then yesterday reality struck.
My dream job was awarded to someone else. Admittedly this woman will do an excellent job, but all indications were I was heir apparent.
To ready myself, I did the extra jobs. I went to night school. I took on additional responsibilities; volunteered for things far outside my comfort zone, such as social media, webinars, employer conferences, and a quality seminar. Along the way there was that carrot dangled, “C’mon a little bit further and you’ll be director material. I’m counting on you.”
All for nothing. Nothing. I’m disgusted; I probably won’t sleep tonight either.
And now I’m empty, except for the gnawing disappointment. Every time I think of it my throat constricts, breathing gets rapid, and my face turns read from embarrassment because I’m the fool. I can hear the whispers, “Bill Potter. What an idiot. We told him he would never get ahead here. He has the wrong social security number. Didn’t he understand? What a fool. He’s not one of them.”
Even as I write this down, it all seems so self-serving. And I am not that guy. Perhaps I should be. Aren’t I authorized a little pride, hope, and aspiration? Shouldn’t there be some payoff or recognition for putting the in the extra time when others seem to be standing on the sideline waiting for something to happen. Am I not deserving?
My heart is broken.
I’ve tried so hard only to come up so empty handed.
I’m not sure I can look at those people, all knowing what a fool I’ve been.