It’s 9:47pm. You’re re-reading a Slack message from your manager for the fourth time, hunting for subtext that probably isn’t there. Your calendar just got a mystery invite titled “Quick Sync” with no agenda. Your boss said “let’s circle back” in the meeting today instead of their usual thumbs-up emoji, and now you’re mentally drafting your resignation letter and your rebuttal at the same time.
Welcome to the worst kind of insomnia: workplace Kremlinology.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth — you can’t fully answer “am I getting fired?” by vibes alone. But you can build a system that tells you the difference between a genuine warning sign and your brain doing what brains do under uncertainty: filling silence with worst-case scenarios.
Why Your Brain Is Terrible at This Specific Question
Here’s the thing nobody says out loud: paranoia and accuracy aren’t opposites. You can be anxious and correct. You can also be completely calm and about to be blindsided. Feeling scared tells you nothing about whether the fear is justified — it just tells you that your nervous system noticed ambiguity and filled in the blank.
That’s the actual mechanism here, and it’s worth understanding because it explains why “just trust your gut” — the advice you’ll find on basically every other version of this article — is bad advice.
Your brain runs on pattern completion. When you don’t have enough information to finish a story, it finishes one for you, and under stress it defaults to the scariest available ending. This is called negativity bias, and it’s not a character flaw — it’s a survival feature that’s badly miscalibrated for office life. A vague Slack message used to mean “predator in the grass.” Now it means your manager was in back-to-back meetings and typed four words on their phone.
The mistake almost everyone makes is treating this as a feelings problem when it’s actually a data problem. You’re trying to answer a factual question (“is my job actually at risk”) using an emotional instrument (how anxious you feel right now), and then you’re compounding it by cherry-picking evidence. Once your brain decides “I’m getting fired” is the working theory, it starts grading every interaction against that theory — and confirmation bias is very good at finding supporting evidence in completely normal noise. A skipped hello in the hallway becomes proof. A canceled 1:1 becomes proof. Meanwhile, the two compliments you got in the team channel last week don’t register at all, because they don’t fit the story.
The reframe that actually helps: Stop asking “how do I feel about this?” and start asking “what would I conclude if a coworker described this exact situation to me, with none of my anxiety attached?” You are not a reliable narrator of your own job security. Nobody is. That’s not an insult — it’s just how threat perception works when the stakes feel personal.
There’s real research behind why this specific anxiety spikes the way it does. A 2025 American Psychological Association survey found that when workers feel their jobs are at risk, that sense of uncertainty tends to spill into nearly every part of their lives — not just work. That tracks with why this question keeps you up at night instead of staying neatly contained in “office stuff.” Job insecurity isn’t just career anxiety; it’s a whole-nervous-system event. That’s worth knowing, because it means the intensity of your fear is not a reliable measure of how real the threat is. High-alert people feel this way even in stable jobs. Low-alert people sometimes feel nothing right up until the layoff email.
There’s also a subtler trap hiding in here: the halo effect of “I’ve always been fine before.” People who’ve never been fired often assume their track record is a shield — surely a company wouldn’t cut someone with good reviews and no complaints. But layoffs, reorgs, and budget cuts frequently have nothing to do with individual performance, which means “I haven’t done anything wrong” and “I’m safe” aren’t actually the same statement. Conversely, people who have messed up sometimes assume the worst is inevitable and stop advocating for themselves entirely, which can become a self-fulfilling prophecy — disengagement reads as low performance even when it’s really just fear in disguise.
So if feelings aren’t the tool, what is? Pattern, over time, tracked deliberately instead of relitigated at 2am.
The Tool: A 2-Week Signal Log (Plus the Script for the Conversation You’re Avoiding)
Here’s the actual fix — not a vibe check, a log. The goal is to separate isolated, explainable events from sustained, unexplained patterns, because pattern is the thing that actually predicts termination. One bad meeting is an event. Three weeks of shrinking responsibilities with no explanation is a pattern.
Step 1: Start a private note (not on a work device — more on that below). For two weeks, log anything that pings your anxiety, using this format:
| Date | What happened | My anxious read | Neutral alternative explanation | Has this happened before? |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 8/14 | Manager canceled 1:1, no reschedule offered | “They’re avoiding me” | They had back-to-back exec meetings all week | No |
| 8/16 | Left off a project kickoff email | “I’m being phased out” | New PM may not have my name on the distro yet | No |
| 8/22 | Manager canceled 1:1 again | “Confirmed, I’m out” | — | Yes, this is the second time |
Step 2: After two weeks, look for repetition, not intensity. One scary entry means nothing. The same category of event showing up 3+ times with no explanation is your actual signal.
Step 3: If a real pattern shows up, don’t guess — ask. This is the step most people skip because it feels terrifying, but it’s the single highest-leverage move you can make. Use something like this:
“Hey [manager] — I want to check in on how things are going from your side. I’ve noticed a few changes lately [name one or two, factually, no accusation] and I want to make sure I understand where I stand and what you’d like to see from me. Is now a good time, or should we grab 15 minutes this week?”
That script works because it does three things at once: it’s non-defensive, it names something concrete instead of “I have a bad feeling,” and it puts the burden of clarity on the person who actually has the information — your manager. Most managers, even bad ones, will give you something usable in response. Silence or deflection is itself useful data.
I’ll be honest — I’ve sat on the anxious side of this exact spiral, convinced a reorg rumor and a quiet manager meant my number was up. I sent the version of that script above, badly, hands shaking a little. Turned out my manager was distracted because she was worried about being laid off. Nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t have known that without asking directly — I would’ve just kept building a case against myself in my head.
Common Mistakes People Make When They Suspect They’re Getting Fired
Polling your coworkers for reassurance. Every time you ask “did that seem weird to you?” you’re outsourcing your anxiety and, worse, signaling instability to people who talk to each other.
Going quiet and disengaging “just in case.” Ironically, this is the fastest way to turn a false alarm into a real problem — checked-out employees get noticed, and not in the way you want.
Firing off a late-night, emotionally loaded email to your manager. Anxious 11pm messages read as unstable in daylight. If you need to say something, sleep on it and use the script above instead.
Job-searching on your work laptop or work email. Beyond the obvious risk of being seen, using company property to search “signs you’re about to be fired” or browse job boards can itself become the trigger you were worried about. Keep it on personal devices, full stop.
Waiting for 100% certainty before doing anything. You’ll never get it. The goal isn’t certainty — it’s having enough signal to act (quietly update your resume, refresh your network, or have the direct conversation) without waiting for a confirmed crisis.
FAQ
Is being put on a Performance Improvement Plan (PIP) the same as being fired? No, but it’s a formal signal worth taking seriously. Some PIPs are genuine improvement opportunities; others are documentation exercises companies use before a termination. Ask directly what specific, measurable outcomes would mean success, and get it in writing.
Should I ask about severance while I’m still just suspicious, or wait until something’s confirmed? Wait. Bringing up severance before there’s an actual signal on the table can read as you assuming — or even hoping for — an outcome that isn’t real yet, and it can shift how your manager sees the conversation. If your Signal Log turns into an actual termination or layoff conversation, that’s the moment to ask about severance terms, timeline, and what happens to benefits — not before.
Can asking my manager if I’m getting fired backfire and make it more likely? A calm, professional version of the script above rarely hurts you — managers generally respect someone who addresses uncertainty directly instead of stewing. What can backfire is an emotional or accusatory version of the same question.
What is “quiet firing” and how is it different from this? Quiet firing is when a company makes someone’s role gradually worse — fewer projects, no growth path, no feedback — hoping they’ll quit instead of being formally let go. It’s a slower, mushier version of the same pattern your Signal Log is built to catch.
How long does it usually take to get fired after a bad performance review? There’s no fixed timeline — it depends entirely on company process, documentation requirements, and how serious the concerns are. Some companies move within weeks of a bad review; others let performance issues drag for months without action. This is exactly why pattern-tracking beats guessing.
Should I start job hunting just to be safe, even if I’m not sure? Keeping a resume current and your network warm is reasonable hygiene regardless of whether you’re actually at risk — treat it as maintenance, not panic.
What if my manager gives a vague or dismissive answer when I ask directly? That’s still information — just not the reassuring kind. A manager who won’t answer a calm, direct question about how things are going is either uncomfortable with confrontation, not fully in the loop themselves (common during reorgs, when even managers don’t have final word yet), or genuinely avoiding the conversation because there’s something to avoid. Note it in your log as its own data point, and consider looping in HR or a skip-level if the pattern continues — a vague answer once is normal; two or three in a row is itself a signal worth acting on.
Where to Go From Here
You don’t have to solve this tonight, and you don’t have to solve it alone in your own head, either — that’s the version of this problem that never resolves. Start the log, watch for pattern instead of intensity, and if the pattern holds up after two weeks, have the conversation. Either way, you’ll know something real instead of something imagined.
And if the log — or the conversation — points toward “yes, this is actually happening,” it’s worth having your resume already in fighting shape before you need it, not after. And if what you actually uncover is that you’re the one ready to walk away first, our guide to writing a resignation letter for family reasons covers how to leave on your own terms — including what you’re not obligated to explain.
