I was laid off out of nowhere over a year ago. Life is fine for me right now and am happier than ever being out of that dysfunctional organization. The lingering thought that keeps arising in my mind is why the solid, close relationships I had with my coworkers (including supervisors and managers) stopped cold. These were people who texted me, sent me cards during the holidays, wished me birthday greetings, etc. Why did that stop? How cold can you be? Is it guilt? Were they instructed to not reach out to me? I came to terms with the stupidity of this failing company getting rid of quality people for their own inept reasons. I just can't understand why me being let go meant eliminating me completely from lives I thought I had solid, personal relationships with. Maybe I was just completely wrong about that. I just wonder if these people I speak of can live with themselves and their guilt at being so heartless.
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This post couldn’t be anymore relatable. I thought the same - my team had my back, they were my friends, they cared about me. But surprisingly no one has reached out to me even though I had made several attempts to reach out to them. It’s the one thing I can’t get past as hard as I try to let go. A job is just a job, but losing people you thought cared is hard to swallow. I still ponder why in my head and then have to stop myself because I’ll never know. I feel dumb thinking they cared all these years. I left there after 16 years with only one true friend.
One more thought to this topic. For many years I was working for a guy who happened to be my friend too. He was absolutely extraordinary person and was a point of contact for all issues within our application. I know for a fact that many times he had conversations with his boss that he is not supposed to maintain friendly relationship with his teammates. It is nice, isn't it? The reason was pretty simple. If you need this person go how would you look into his eyes? Eventually I was not allowed to work for him, now he successfully retired, and three years later I was let go, but we are still maintaining very good and friendly relationship.
It can be the other way around, too. I am still employed, and when I contact those let go, some seem busy or abrupt and not really interested in maintaining the same contact we had before. Maybe they are depressed or embarrassed. Maybe they never really liked me anyway. Maybe we no longer have things in common. Who knows. I wish them well and hope that we all land on our feet if/when the time comes.
I understand the feeling. The day I was let go, almost everybody in my group communicated with me about how much of a bad decision it was to let me go. Even my second level manager said it was unfair. I still communicate with a few of my former colleagues, but I think a lot of it comes down to out of sight and out of mind.
Same here, when I worked with my teammates, they looked they were your great Coworkers or friends, but I felt ghosted when I got let go, after 20 plus years and trained them when they were new hires. I can’t agree more that you know who your true allies/friends are when in bad times. Thankfully, I moved on and meet new people on a new job.
No one tells us not to communicate with former employees, but I know this happens. Here are a few thoughts.
Maybe they worry about their own jobs and conflict of interest if they talk to an ex-worker. They really don’t want more bad news about the company since they still need to work there, which is bad enough.
Or maybe the relationships were all about work, and not all that personal. You could have been part of a team where everyone was treated very well, but now you are not. That would be very sad.
Maybe they are just overworked, taking over for so many that were laid off. It can be hard to talk to a person who is on an “extended vacation” with pay and benefits if someone is still employed in a horrible position at BNY.
If you were a manager, maybe the manager that replaced you has disparaged you, or maybe your team just doesn’t want to be disloyal to their new manager, who they think controls their destiny.
Or maybe the winners (still employed) don’t want to associate with losers (those laid off). That is NOT my personal opinion, but could be theirs.
Some remaining employees should tell us why they don’t talk to ex-employees. Then we’d know for sure.
Hang in there!
You brought a very good point. The same happened to me. When I was escorted out of the building no one said anything to me after 20+ years of service. Everyone who was on the floor pretended like hi or she worked very hard , but I am pretty sure they were thinking “Who will be next?” I think the reason is pretty simple, we are not team any more, just a collection of random resources.
It’s not some dark conspiracy. There are several things in play here. I’m still in touch with several former coworkers (texting, phone calls, meeting up with etc).
One is survivor guilt. One is work can bring people together artificially.
So no one that I know of has been told not to stay in touch with former colleagues
It’s not some great conspiracy. The same thing happens when there’s a death. At first a lot of people reach out but time passes, life moves and n and that fades. It’s a monumental thing for you and you feel like it’s so fresh and raw but meanwhile, life continues on for them. Human nature.
It weird, but the same thing happened to me. My co-workers were instructed not to continue speaking to me or anyone who was laid off. The. Manager wanted everyone to cut ties with former employees of they could be former also.
You're a reminder that 1) they could be laid off at any time and 2) the company they continue to work for is a wet moldering pile of sh!t.
Your former coworkers wake each morning with a curse, begrudgingly dragging themselves out of bed to work in an office full of people they force themselves to tolerate for the sole benefit of getting a paycheck. A miasma of misery permeates the office and is heard in every tense phone call from every peac0cking project manager, every curry-laden belch from the breakroom, every howl of frustration at the spyware bogging down a laptop.
The director of your old department adjusts his $700 tie while gazing deeply into his own soul-shrift eyes in the gold plated mirror of the executives' bathroom, a wry smile cracking his otherwise waxy-smooth visage as he remembers that the coming waves of layoffs will boost his bonus by at least 1% next year.
Weep for those who cannot weep for you.