Friday, the 19th, was my last day of work. After almost 4 years I ran my last group for the outpatient AOD (Alcohol and other drugs) clinic. 19 chairs with their backs against the institutional yellow walls were squeezed into the square space which usually held 12 to 15 at most. Since joining the staff, almost 4 years ago, we had hoped money would be found allowing for the purchase of new stacking chairs. Chairs which would be made of some material resistant to stains. As it was, most who used the chairs tried not to look before sitting down.
Shortly before the group was to start I was handed my yearly evaluation form to sign off on. I didn't bother to read it. I knew it was not going to be positive, though last year's was glowing. I know my performance was disappointing since learning they were closing the unit and I'd be out of a job/internship. I was disappointed they were unable to see the situation from my perspective. I was disappointed I was met with anger rather than empathy. I said I was sorry a number of times, for disappointing them with my behavior. The only defense I could give was my humanity. I also said I thought it unfair to judge all my work over the year based on the past number of weeks when I didn't perform my job above and beyond what was asked of me. They never said I didn't do my job, just that I didn't do it in the style they'd become accustomed to.
But needless to say, this interaction right before the last group was to begin, caused me to become somewhat emotional and tearful. So I grabbed the box of tissues from my desk and headed down the hall to the "group room," soon to be some mucky mucks new office space. I threw the box in the middle of the floor. I learned this protocol from my first supervisor. The clients defensively laughed and asked "Who's that for?" And I replied, "Me." I'd been through a scene like this once before. I had cried more than anyone in the place, I explained. I thought it was because I was new to the field back then; I really loved where I'd been working and the closing of the agency was quick and unexpected. Well I learned Friday (the 19th) that didn't have anything to do with it. I'm pretty certain I won the title for most tears once again. I hated the idea that a sorely needed outpatient program was closing down. I hated the idea that the clients had formed such strong alliances with those of us who worked there as well as their peers, that this was going to be very difficult for them and that it would be highly unusual if at least a few didn't wind up relapsing because of it. Though I pray that doesn't come to pass.
After the group I had to see my field supervisor to go over the 1/2 year evaluation for field learning. I wasn't looking forward to that, fearful it would be much the same about being disappointing. But we did manage to talk things out as I hoped we could and while I still think we have difficulty walking in each other's shoes, I'm grateful for the support she was able to give me.
Then I returned to my office, not realizing how bad the weather had become. I called an administrator to see if I could borrow a hand cart after hours if the gentlemen who were to help with the move had to leave at 5. I discovered they had left quite sometime before due to the weather conditions. So I thought why should I rush to pack if no one was moving into my office on Monday anyway, and decided I'd better just try to get home in one piece after the day I had and the weather outside, and so I did.
Oh I can be Pollyannaish here and acknowledge that endings are simply the start of something new and perhaps exciting and enlightening. But the fact that it was such a difficult ending saddens me. The fact that no one from upper management came and spoke to the outpatients. Oh, they were set up with other agencies to go to, but anyone who has ever had a therapist knows its not easy for whatever reason to change them when you're not expecting to.
I have two weeks off now. Thank god I didn't have to be at the job until the very bitter end (Dec. 31st). I have to practice a lot of self-care as well as a lot of housekeeping that hasn't been touched in a couple of years, thanks to school. My husband has been overgenerous with his help but there are certain things only I can do. I'll keep all those outpatient clients with me--I've internalized each one. I'm forever grateful for having had the honor to witness their recovery and have them in my life.
I waited a week to publish this blog. I wanted to be sure I wasn't saying anything i didn't really want to say in public. I'm satisfied it's ok.
So have a happy New Year everyone. 2009 should prove to be interesting.