For the 23 million of us unemployed these days, our lives
are just pending…waiting for our resumes to be acknowledged, waiting for that
job to come through, waiting for the next check, the next lead, the next
glimmer of hope.
I, myself, am bored to death. In fact, in February, after
rounding the corner of my four year out of gainful employment, I tried to kill myself.
And those haunting words that things would be better off if I was dead are
always on my mind.
What a stressful way to live! Only 5 percent of my thousands of resumes have been
acknowledged.
My unemployment of $53 a week stopped last month. It doesn’t
sound like much. But until you go through life without $53 a week can you
understand.
I truly believe ageism is at fault here. The same jobs my
18-year-old nephew gets are jobs I’ve applied to days before! I’ve actually
been told by one call center that the interview process would be stopped
because of my age.
“We wouldn’t want to train someone like you,” the
interviewer said. “Once you find a job in your field you will leave, (true).
That’s why we prefer applicants in their 20s.”
The gall. The humiliation. The actualization that I have hit
my 51 year, and am now unemployable. I’ve worked since I was 15 years old.
Serving in the U.S. Navy as a journalist on a sub tender, and joining civilian papers
for the next 30 years, I am a dependable employee.
My life is pending, and I am sick of it.
