But I Never Dreamed of Second Place

I struggle with the concept of worth. Self worth, mostly. Am I worth being friends with? Am I worth the time and effort my parents put into me? Am I worth anything at all in this world? Is my life worth living anymore?

And right now, my worth is being tested more than ever. I’m struggling with not taking decisions about me and my character to heart. I’m struggling. Because nothing hurts more than loving something so much, and putting your entire mind and body into it, and being told you’re not good enough. You’re not worth it. Nothing hurts more than loving a job and knowing it’ll be ripped right out from underneath you in a matter of weeks.

Through a temp agency, I was placed in an oncology/hematology office to cover for a medical assistant when she went on maternity leave. My first day was February 15th. I was told she gets three months, and after that, she’d be back and I’d have to find a new job. I took this position because at the time, my family had plans to move to Florida (then I had plans to move to a different part of Florida) and this temporary position would be perfect. It’d end just in time for me to move.

But plans fall through. My idiocy and need to have the final word in everything ruined a friendship and I know I can’t get that back. I can try so hard and change, but no matter what, I’m not worth the hurt anymore. And I understand it. So Florida is out of the question. As for my parents moving? They aren’t. My dad’s health isn’t the best and they want to wait it out until he’s better.

And the girl on maternity leave? She’s not coming back. Which means they need a replacement medical assistant; and since February, I’ve fallen in love with my position, my coworkers, my patients. I want this job. I want them to hire me. I cry just thinking about the fact that they won’t. His words echo in my mind constantly.

“We want to keep our options open.” “We want to find someone with more skills.””It’s just ridiculous to pay an agency to end the contract and hire you.”

I was told it was originally $5,000 to end the contract. That’s steep. But I was also told that after negotiations, the fee was lowered to “over $2,000” which to me says that it’s under $3,000.

I did the math. This office pays the agency $25 an hour for me ($13 of which actually goes to me). Over the course of six weeks (allotted time to find someone), that’s $6,000 going out to pay me for my time. This doesn’t include advertisement of the job through the newspaper and various websites.

Two of those six could be for training the new person, and if they’re making $15/hour, then that $6,000 turns into $7,200 they are putting out to keep me on until they find someone new for me to train.

If they paid the $3,000 (rounding up because the way my manager said it, told me the fee was under $3,000) and hired me to start at $15 tomorrow, then after six weeks, they’d have paid $6,600 ($15/hour for 6 weeks is $3,600).

They are paying more money to find someone to replace me in the long run. And I spoke with the doctors about this, I spoke with the nurse practitioner about this. They all agree with me that it’s throwing money away.

But after a business meeting, they want to keep their options open. They love me, but they want someone with more skills. They want to keep me, but they don’t want to save $600 (or more because I rounded that fee) to do so.

And it’s a slap in the face. I’m not good enough. I’m not worthy enough to keep this position. I’m not worth the money they have to put out to keep me. Money that the doctors make per patient per visit. I’m not worth it.

And it hurts. Oh my god, it hurts. All this progress I’ve made learning to love myself and what I do and who I am, I’ve lost because of this. I’m second guessing my skills in this career, I’m second guessing their claims to adore me as their medical assistant. I’m wondering if everyone in this office has lied to my face about loving me and wanting me to stay.

I’m lost. I don’t want to go to work most days, especially now that I know it could be my last week. I’ve had patients tell me they don’t want me to go. I’ve had coworkers tell me the same. I just. I’m hurt. I’m truly hurt. This is the best job I’ve ever had and I don’t feel like I deserve it. I’m not worthy enough to have it. I love this job, but I want to just quit now. I want to rip the bandaid and never go back.

But I never dreamed of second place, so I’d rather just quit than continue to race.

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