On no longer being needed or useful: the rollercoaster of redundancy
This is a blog post I thought I’d never have to write, at least at this point of my career when everything seemed to be going so well, yet here I am. It’s week two of officially being redundant from my job, a job that I adored alongside the people who worked there, so I thought I’d share some reflections. Although, still incredibly raw reflections as I continue to navigate this sea of uncertainty, and try to get people to want me again.
Three years ago was when I first experienced redundancy. The organisation I worked for at the time hadn’t been able to secure further funding for my job, and as there were no positions I could do for the charity, they had to let me go. I knew that my contract was coming to an end, that further funding wasn’t a certainty, and that redundancy could be on the cards, so it wasn’t quite a shock. The role that was being made redundant was part time, and I still had another job in the same organisation, so I didn’t actually officially leave until it was on my own terms. It was however, devastating to have a sudden drop in income – a big motivator for looking for work elsewhere – that I hoped would be more sustainable and offer the stability I craved. I never imagined having to experience redundancy again, so soon.
Fast forward to just last month (May 2024), and I’m once again sitting in a redundancy meeting with HR, being told that the organisation is changing strategic direction, and that my role now wasn’t needed for this new strategy. I didn’t have a job where I thought I belonged anymore. There were other words, but with all of the shock it became a blur, like I bad dream that I hoped I would wake up from at any moment. I never did wake up. This dream continues. No matter how much business sense redundancy makes, and how good an argument for this case, it still hurts. It’s still isolating. It will always be overwhelming. My team were only officially informed of the news two weeks after it was first broken to me, and this period (despite a select few knowing ahead of the official announcement) was the most isolating and lonely I have ever felt. It hits you. And feels very very personal. It may not be intended that way, but Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria doesn’t take much notice of intentions. When my team did hear the news, my last day was the Friday of the same week. And that week seemed to vanish. Things moving at lightning speed isn’t great when you need more time to process what is happening, and to organise your thoughts and feelings into an order that makes sense. Redundancy obviously isn’t great for anyone, but the process really isn’t designed to consider a neurodivergent brain and how we might respond, process or take in this new information.
However supportive and understanding your employer, the whole redundancy process lacks real recognition of emotions or empathy. The legal speak in letters feels very cold and harsh, and people or employees are treated like commodities that can just be disposed of when they no longer suit the business needs. And that’s why the system needs to change. Legally an employer doesn’t have to give you redundancy pay if you’ve been there less than two years. I’m sorry, what exactly is this law? And why are people just accepting that ‘I’ve been there less than two years, I have no rights’? Do people not consider that we still need to meet our needs no matter how many years of service? People have to get back on their feet, they still have bills to pay, food to buy and they may need, as I’ve discovered, some breathing space before rushing onto the next thing. It’s a bereavement. And on losing a job in this way, there should be time to grieve. Except we don’t get that – we are forced into applying for the next opportunity, staying up all night preparing presentations for interviews and updating portfolios or CV’s – and this is mostly at the expense of our mental health.
Can we be psychologically safe while being made redundant?
Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of reading and writing about what it means to be psychologically safe at work, and what others can do to support this. In writing my book “Neurodiversity in The Workplace: How to create a safe and inclusive environment.” I’ve explored systemic inclusion, and how we can design workplaces to create environments we all want to be in, and can be ourselves in. I wrote this book because I’ve finally felt cared for and valued at work, my line manager was and remains a wonderful support, and I wanted to share this with others.
In my book I shared that before a workplace even considers psychological safety, it’s important to get the basics right; food and water, interaction that is comfortable for you, a space where it is safe to be vulnerable, manageable working hours and being paid fairly for the work you do. These basics are important before we look deeper into adding in being able to challenge and accept being challenged, feeling comfortable communicating needs to people around you, and eventually feeling happier. For anyone who has been made redundant, it affects all parts of life and so many people struggle to access these basic needs. As Maslow named it, the Hierarchy of needs. At the bottom of the hierarchy there are things like food, shelter and sleep – which a sudden loss of a job will impact for most people. And if we don’t have these basics or accessing these needs suddenly becomes a worry , we won’t achieve psychological safety or belonging. We can’t climb the hierarchy, and as a result self esteem plummets.
A quick google of the word redundant shows definitions like: “no longer needed or useful” and “surplus to requirements”. There are similar words like “useless”, “disposable” and “unwanted”. So if this is how a person is being defined, and I say person, as although people speak of “positions being made redundant” – a person is very much behind that position, a job description isn’t anything without the person to do the job – how can anyone who has been made redundant feel psychologically safe? And how can this put anyone in good stead for finding another job when they are feeling psychologically and emotionally broken? I have no real answers to my questions, except to say, as I am still very much riding the waves, psychological safety must be considered when navigating redundancies at work. Mental health is way more important than hitting targets, cutting costs or arguing a business case. I’m only in the position I am now (which to be honest isn’t really a great one) because I have a lovely support network of ex-colleagues, friends and family. And I am able to share the load with different people to talk to. But imagine the difference for those who don’t have that network of support. How are they doing? Who is looking out for their mental health? They are the people I worry about.
Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria
I have ADHD, and with that I experience an intense fear of rejection or failure otherwise known as Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria or RSD. And when it does strike it feels very very real. As I’m sure you can understand, redundancy for me has triggered feelings of rejection and memories of past workplace trauma. Many people can begin to re-live memories of other periods of their life when they felt rejected, whether this is bullying, relationships, exams or not being picked in PE at school. And this can make dealing with the immediate events and impact of redundancy even more challenging, overwhelming and draining.
On being told you’re redundant you believe you aren’t good enough, that no one would ever want you again and that this has happened because you have failed. Everything is internalised. And RSD magnifies these emotions. A small set back for one person, could seem like the end of the world for me. Every time I did my PDP and was waiting for feedback, a tiny voice somewhere in me is wondering if this is the time I would be told I’m not good enough and need to leave. I was scared of failure and letting people down. As my notice period was coming to an end I cried in most of my 1:1’s with my line manager, I was terrified of the unknown and uncertainty that was to come, and despite feeling very supported and cared for by my line manager, I still had this feeling of dread that I really was not wanted, and that I was not good enough to be there. When you’ve dealt with years of carefully building up self esteem and confidence, to have it all broken down again in one redundancy meeting, can feel like your once stable world has turned into a ship out in stormy seas. I hope you can imagine the real impact redundancy can have. And how this for me with my neurodivergent brain and RSD going into overdrive, is magnified to the extreme. “It’s not about you” or “It’ll be okay in the end” really won’t reassure me during an RSD cycle.
Work is for a lot of people, and my last job was no exception, a very social thing. Friendships form, you chat about things beyond work and get to know your colleagues. My job also involved a social element when we stayed away for a few nights together at away days. This social interaction was also suddenly pulled from me, like a rug from under my feet. The emotional impact of redundancy is often much deeper than simply losing a job. It’s a whole network of people and community, who you’ve spent months or years chatting to everyday, developing relationships, sharing weekend stories and collaborating on projects together, and now these people are not there. Your mornings are quieter without reading their daily checkins, yet your mind and thoughts are far from still or silent. They are louder than ever. The loss felt by redundancy has a ripple effect with different impacts of rejection, a vicious cycle.
Things I have learned so far on this redundancy rollercoaster
Supporting yourself
Take each day as it comes. There will be good days and bad days. Some mornings you will feel really productive and get loads done, other days just getting dressed will feel like you’ve ran a marathon. Your body and mind is adjusting to this change, and it will take time to finally feel like you again.
Listen to your body. I’m terrible at following my own advice here, but you’ve been through a traumatic event, and this will cause physical symptoms, alongside tiredness and exhaustion. When you need to take it slow or rest, do so. I’ve already managed to over heat and then faint because of the shock and exhaustion, as I’m still constantly trying to be on the go, despite my body telling me to stop and slow down.
Speak to a union. In the early days of redundancy, it’s really important to seek advice and understand your rights, and the best place to do that is by speaking to a union rep. Even if they tell you, as they did to me, that legally there isn’t anything they could do. At least you know. There’s also people like ACAS who can offer independent advice if you aren’t a member of a union.
Take someone to consultation meetings – I didn’t do this and really wish I had. Even if it was just a colleague. Much of these conversations are just a blur now as I was in a state of shock at the time, making it even more difficult to process and comprehend what was happening. It’s really useful to have someone else there who can relay back information to you after the discussion.
Seek and accept support. If you have a network of people willing support, make sure you keep talking and lean on people when you need to. Redundancy can be an incredibly lonely place otherwise. If you’ve been offered things like outplacement support and you think it will be useful to you, take this up too. It might also be useful to think about more professional support like therapy or coaching, alongside the informal support networks around you.
Make a routine. I feel like such a hypocrite sharing this, as sticking to a routine has been the one thing I’ve found the hardest. But a routine can be helpful, if you can find a way it can work for you. Use your calendar to block out times of the day when you’ll work on things just like you’d do at work, get up at a similar time everyday and practice good sleep hygiene. A routine really helped me to keep on top of things at work, and so in theory should be helpful when I’m not working too.
Supporting someone facing redundancy
Be there to listen. If someone feels safe opening up to you about their redundancy, make sure you listen. You don’t have to have any answers, offer solutions or fix their problems. Simply being available to listen can help them with processing events and planning the next thing that’s right for them.
Remind them of celebrations. As I’ve shared being made redundant can evoke feelings of failure, trigger a lack of confidence and belief they can do it. So, what I’ve valued most is people reminding me what I can do, things I’ve done well and achievements I may have forgotten. This is also useful when tackling a sea of job applications. Applying for jobs is tough when all you can think about is your own floors, so having someone remind what you have and can bring to a team really is a much needed self esteem boost.
Give them time and space to breathe. It’s also important not to overpower people and to allow space. Yes, be in touch and make sure you checkin but maybe not everyday. If they’ve said they need some space to process and think, make sure you allow them that. But also let them know you’re there if they need you.
Offer practical support. As I’ve shared, redundancy can affect all parts of someone’s life, and sometimes asking for help can feel like the hardest thing. If you feel able to offer support beyond listening, consider other ways to be there. It could be offering to read applications, a regular phone call to check in, taking them out for the day for a change of scene or even getting some shopping in.
Chat about things other than the redundancy, This is important. Despite their life feeling all consumed by their current situation, it really shouldn’t be. I still want to hear about your pets, holidays and good news too.
Arrange to meet up to give them something to look forward to. When you’ve just been made redundant it can feel like your world is all consumed by it. And feelings turn into a bit of a vicious cycle. Get a date in the diary to give them a break from these feelings. And you might have to take a lead with organisation here, as they may not be in the best emotional state to do so.
Redundancy is tough to come to terms with, going from getting up every morning to start work, to wondering what the day will hold or if you’ll find a job that day, it’s a rocky rollercoaster to be on and a big adjustment to make. My experience so far has taught me that we all have the responsibility to respond to news of a redundancy with empathy, compassion and care, and employers have the power to treat all redundancies fairly and with an understanding of the feelings and emotions hearing such news triggers, even for the most confident of employee. We will all feel this pain. I do know somewhere deep in my brain that my identity isn’t just my job, there is more to me than work, but it is still a huge part of my identity. An identity that I had last month.
I’m going to continue riding these waves until I find another place that is right for me, where I am supported, included and valued, a place where I can be myself in. I know it must be out there somewhere.
In the meantime, if you’d like to support me by buying my book ‘Neurodiversity in the Workplace” or booking me to speak about neurodivergent inclusion at work, it will be appreciated now more than ever.