I'm coming out of my cave. No, that's nothing like coming out of the closet.
A former colleague once observed that when an outside force causes a major shift in my best laid plans, I sit in a metaphorical corner for a few days and lick my wounds. This time the corner was a cave. And the days turned into weeks. And the wounds were too deep to lick.
I lost my job.
This may not seem significant enough to warrant such a dramatic response, but I quickly learned that losing what's been a large part of my life (and a constant amongst all the life changes), as well as part of my identity, for the past few years needed to be grieved before I could move forward. I hid in my antisocial cave and went through all the stages - denial, anger, bargaining, and depression - and am finally emerging with acceptance, a plan of action, and a desire to reconnect with the outside world.
My one little word "try" means more to me now than when I picked it earlier this year as I try to accept what I cannot change, try to make the best of the situation, and try to remember all I have to be grateful for in my life. Oh yeah, and try to get a new job. ☺