The Think Tank ~ Unemployment; The New Face of Identity Theft

Posted by Bryan J Zimmerman on Jul 12, 2010 in opinion | 2 comments

I made my way from the bedroom to the kitchen as I do every morning, however, things seemed out of place. Physically nothing had changed. The pictures of family adorned the wall leading down the staircase, and the back pain I experience upon rising in the morning was definitely there, however, mentally things were out of place. The carpet under my bare feet didn’t feel the same, and my journey to the altar of java was somehow slowed down as if time itself were tugging at my shirt.

I thought to myself it was just lack of sleep or allergies, but the invisible force continued to nag at me all the way down the stairs. I started the coffee maker, and headed to the bathroom for my normal morning download. I took care of business, and as I was washing my hands stole a peek of myself in the mirror. This is normally enough to either wake me up or cause a sickness in my gut, however, today was different. I stared for what seemed like an eternity, but no matter how hard I concentrated, the face staring back at me was a complete stranger. I knew that physically I was still the same person, yet simultaneously I didn’t, which is down right creepy.

After the mirror incident I made my way back to the kitchen for some breakfast and coffee, the entire time thinking about the experience with the mirror. The more I thought about it there were other oddities over the past month that led up to this moment. I was not sleeping normally, days and weeks seemed to melt into one another causing me to forget birthdays and other special events. As I continued to ponder, like a bag of bricks over the head, it hit me. I no longer knew who I was or what my purpose was. It was as if someone or something had stolen my identity. Suddenly, I felt like the last person on earth; alone and frightened; A rebel without a cause, or something like that.

This month, July 2010, marks one year of unemployment. It was one year ago this month that 200 fellow employees faced the same fate as I did. First, there was the early morning email letting the company know that a RIF, or reduction in force was no longer a rumor; it was now a reality. Just two hours later I was called into my manager’s office to hear those three words everyone dreads, “We are sorry.”

I was given the rundown regarding insurance, pay, and whatever else they told me that day. To be honest I was only half-listening. Next came the fake handshake and the verbal form letter, “This was a difficult decision . . . . yadda, yadda.” Upon returning to my desk, there was a flattened box waiting for me to place my personal items into. You would think they could have at least put he damn thing together. There wasn’t much time for goodbyes, not because we were rushed out, but most of us had more important things on our mind, like having to go home and tell our families that we were no longer employed.

The months that followed were both scary, humbling, and frustrating. All the government agencies (welfare, medical assistance, food stamps, etc.) that I have paid taxes to for the past thirty years couldn’t help me in my time of need. There were two excuses used for every program I applied for. My household income was too high, or my unemployment was not considered viable income. My wife works as a receptionist for a local animal hospital, and her weekly income is actually lower that my unemployment checks!

Soon, the bill collectors began their onslaught of phone calls and threats, which I liken to cornering an injured badger, it is just not a good idea, and really pisses off the badger. Before I knew what hit me I was summoned to the local magistrate for credit cards that were overdue, doctor bills, and anything else the blood sucking lawyers could charge me with. There were a couple of lawyers that were willing to work with me, but they were far and few between.

Next came the foreclosure notice which was the hardest to deal with. I had made my mortgage payments every month for the past fifteen years, and now I was at risk of losing my home? There was something terribly wrong with everything. Suddenly, I felt like the bad guy. I called my mortgage company to see what type of assistance was available, however, like the government agencies, I got the same excuses; Not enough income or too much income. They also did not consider my unemployment viable income, which I think is complete nonsense, especially when it is all you have.
To add insult to injury, I have not had insurance since being laid off. The Cobra insurance is a joke, and my wife’s insurance would go up $500.00 a month by adding myself or my son. Luckily I was able to get my son on CHIP, so at least he is covered and my wife has insurance through her employer. I consider myself very lucky that I have not had a need to see a doctor or go to the hospital, however, this would not be such a worry if I were eligible for medical assistance.

My identity has been stolen that is a fact, just ask anyone who knows the former me. My mirror still reflects a stranger, my days turn into weeks and months in what seems like an instant, and I feel as if I am lost in a vast forest with no breadcrumb trails to get back. I have become a ghost in my own body waiting for someone or something to pull me out. Although I have learned to take life day by day and not worry about tomorrow (for tomorrow has worries of its own), I still ponder as to where I went, and when I will be back.

Much like Dorothy from “The Wizard Of Oz,” I find myself wanting to click my work boots together (You didn’t honestly think I was going to type slippers) and chant those words known by all, “There’s no place like home.” My life will never be the same because of the circumstances outlined in this article, however, a thin slice of normalcy is surely welcomed.

Your thoughts and comments are both welcomed and encouraged.