It’s (Not) Personal: A Few More Thoughts on Job Loss and Mental Health
This is my second post on job loss and mental health - you can read the first one here.
Having been laid off from a post-secondary institution last summer, I’m primarily writing about the wide-scale job loss taking place in Ontario’s colleges.
But regardless of what industry you’re in, I hope you find this relevant and helpful.
As always, please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need support.
I didn’t expect the reaction to my last post. When I shared some of my thoughts about the mental health impact of job loss last month, I was stunned by the response as countless people from across the province resonated with the article, and reached out to share their own experiences as well.
But maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. In January I wrote that 10,000 jobs had been lost in the post-secondary sector - that number continues to rise and may actually be closer to 17,000 across Canada. Thousands of Federal workers have also received notices as the government starts down the path of cutting 40,000 jobs by 2029. Simply put, there are more of us going through this than I thought.
But I suspect there’s more to it than that.
As I've connected and worked with people experiencing job loss, a few themes have come through loud and clear. People feel angry, hurt, and betrayed - but also isolated and unheard, with their pain minimized, dismissed, or ignored by their institutions and communities.
So mostly, I think people were just ready to talk, and eager to feel seen.
Grief Without Permission
That post talked about the grief of job loss. But for many people disenfranchised grief may have been a more accurate term. “Disenfranchised grief… refers to any grief that goes unacknowledged or unvalidated by social norms,” writes Crystal Raypole in Healthline. “This kind of grief is often minimized or not understood by others, which makes it particularly hard to process and work through.”
To be clear, this is rarely done maliciously. But even though job loss is considered one of the top 10 most stressful life events - ranking just behind divorce and incarceration - the truth is we don’t always treat it that way. “When you lose a job, there are no ceremonies. People around you may view this as a blip or a financial problem, something easily solved by networking and updating your resume,” says author Robin Merle. “In the meantime, the role that gave you your professional identity is gone.”
This minimization shows up in different ways. Sometimes it sounds like a well-intentioned pep talk meant to lift you up. That can help - if you’re ready to hear it. But just as often, it reduces the experience to a logistical or financial hurdle, dismissing the emotional, social, and personal impacts you may also be carrying.
Other times, it’s avoidance - conversations cut short because sitting with someone’s pain is hard. “I’ve seen folks who are lucky enough to evade the chopping block minimize, deflect, or disappear. It’s not that people are cruel. They’re uncomfortable,” says The Only Black Guy in the Office, the pseudonym of a marketing manager and writer from Seattle. “Layoffs remind us how little control we have over our own jobs. And in that discomfort, we forget the person in front of us is going through some real s**t.”
When you’re surrounded by people minimizing your experience - regardless of how well-meaning, unintentional, or indirect it may be - you start to internalize it, question your own feelings, and wonder if you’re wrong, broken, or over-dramatic for feeling that way. This adds a thick layer of shame to an already complicated and challenging mix of emotions.
We previously talked about “name it to tame it,” and how putting language to your feelings is a significant step towards managing them. It’s a simple concept that becomes exponentially more challenging when those feelings are invalidated, and when you question whether you’re supposed to, or even allowed to feel the way you feel.
And this ultimately makes those feelings harder to handle, leading to isolation, and a lack of support - after all, if you believe your emotions are wrong, you’re far less likely to talk about them.
Betrayal Blindness
Organizations play a role in this too. “We’re often told ‘it’s not personal, it’s just business,’” says Dr. Kate McIntosh, a former Vice President of Student Affairs, echoing a sentiment that you’ve probably heard on a loop if you’ve been laid off. “That statement is so dismissive and demonstrates such a disregard for the impacted individuals. How we treat people matters.”
There’s a concept that helps explain this. Dr. Jennifer Freyd, founder of the Center for Institutional Courage, coined the term institutional betrayal blindness to describe how dependence on an institution - as an employee or citizen - can make it hard to fully see the harm it causes. “Betrayal blindness is the unawareness, not-knowing, and forgetting exhibited by people towards betrayal,” Freyd says. “Victims, perpetrators, and witnesses may display betrayal blindness in order to preserve relationships, institutions, and social systems upon which they depend.”
This means remaining staff and management may be unintentionally or unconsciously drawn towards minimizing the impact of your layoff. You can think of it as a defense mechanism that helps people stay connected to - and employed by - systems and organizations they depend on, even when they are doing harm. In a sense, “it’s not personal” may feel true to them because they need it to be.
Just Business
And on one level, it is true. The amount of talent being let go across the province is staggering. You were hired because of your skill, passion, qualifications, and experience. Your lay off was made for reasons outside of your control, and is not a reflection of your value or abilities. In the midst of the self-doubt that comes with job loss, this can be hard to grasp, but crucial to remember.
So in that sense, it is just business.
But on another level, we know the impacts are deeply personal. If you’re now questioning your abilities or self-worth, unsure how you’ll pay your rent or mortgage, wondering whether you can still retire, or resigning yourself to an unwanted and uncertain career change, it feels incredibly personal.
What’s more, while the decision to let someone go may be “just business,” how the decision is carried out makes it personal.
A lot has been written about how companies can handle layoffs in ways that mitigate their adverse effects on both the individual and the organization. Best practices include providing access to EAPs, career counselling, and other supports, and limiting layoffs to as few rounds as possible, rather than dragging them out over months or years.
And yet, across the board we’re seeing institutions forgo such compassionate and humanizing steps in favour of methods that exacerbate and amplify the negative mental health impacts on individuals.
Instead of being given space and time to end well and say goodbye, we’re seeing long-term employees walked off campus by security.
Instead of honouring years of hard work and dedication, we’re seeing workers quietly “disappeared” - laid off abruptly and silently, with an out-of-office message as the only indication they’re gone.
Instead of giving people a voice through exit interviews or other means, we’re seeing staff compelled to sign non-disclosure agreements.
And instead of transparent, face-to-face communication, we’re seeing secrecy, and mass layoffs done by Zoom or email.
How we treat people matters, and when staff are treated carelessly, it’s hard to see it as “just business.” This makes it personal, and is a major reason why so many people feel angry and betrayed right now. Can you blame them?
It’s Personal
Everyone will experience this differently. For some, job loss may truly be a blip. But if you are feeling angry, betrayed, disappointed, depressed, or anxious, know this: these are legitimate, appropriate, and human responses to what you’re going through.
Too often, minimizing or dismissing our feelings leads to pressure to move on quickly - to update our resume, start networking, and stay productive. But racing straight into problem-solving can bypass something essential. “When you lose a job, most people jump straight to updating their résumé or scrolling job boards at 2 a.m. in a panic spiral,” says Dr. Monica Johnson, aka The Savvy Psychologist. “We’re not going to ‘grind’ our way out of grief. Recovery isn’t just logistical - it’s emotional, social, financial, physical, and even spiritual. Rebounding from job loss requires a whole-person approach.”
That recovery can’t begin by pretending this didn’t hurt, or that it was “just a job.” It starts by naming what was lost, acknowledging the impact, and allowing yourself to feel it - without minimizing, rushing, or shaming yourself for it.
Because how we treat people matters. And how we treat ourselves in the aftermath matters too.
This may have been “just business.” But the impact is personal - and it deserves to be treated that way.
