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<\/p>\n
When Kitty got her fourth layoff call, she took it via Bluetooth in her car. She knew the script by then: the sudden 15-minute meeting invite, the HR rep that pops into the call, the platitudes that precede the devastation of being unemployed \u2014 again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\u201cMy boss says, \u2018Hi Kitty,\u2019 and I said, \u2018You\u2019re laying me off. Just go.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Something happens after the second, or third, or even fourth layoff. Shock gets replaced by trauma-informed familiarity. Grief turns into exhaustion, shame calcifies. The way a person understands work changes, imbuing the next job with cynicism that\u2019s hard to shake.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A layoff victim\u2019s relationship with work changes. Sometimes forever. But in order to keep going, it might be best to stop blaming yourself\u2014and start looking at the reasons layoffs happen so often in the first place.\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\u201cThe biggest disruption I see is the loss of identity, routine, and predictability,\u201d says New York-based therapist Jacqueline Schmidt. \u201cWork is a world you had, for better or worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
Schmidt\u2019s clients deal with the typical feelings of disbelief, anger, and shame that come from being laid off. The idea that their work mattered less than they thought, and that their worth came down to a consultant\u2019s number-crunching.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2018I can achieve all my goals, hit the metrics, and I\u2019m still dispensable.\u2019 People can get stuck thinking they were to blame,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n