I used to be somewhat of a control freak. I thrived on structure, planning, organizing, working ambitiously at whatever it is I wanted. If I did A, B, and C, then D, E, and F would happen. Or so I had believed. The way I viewed life, people, and even myself changed that summer of 2005. I became more uncertain. The more I thought I knew, the less I knew. The instances in which I felt like I didn't know what I was doing, what was going to happen....those seemed to be the times I felt most free, most alive. Surrendered to the unknown. Eventually even an unexplainable comfort arose in me in such moments.
I left off by telling you how the methadone job opportunity fell in my lap. What I haven't told you is that I also thought I would be working where B worked, at the downtown clinic. B thought one of the employees would be leaving soon and that I could be his replacement. I called her boss to express interest. I met with him for a very informal interview (he took a phone call within minutes of us stepping into his office). I don't recall him scrutinizing my resume'. He was overly nonchalant, so much in fact that I questioned whether he was all that serious about considering me as a potential candidate for hire. Only now in retrospect can I reflect on this as being a very telling snapshot of his personality and how he operates, even in serious matters. As unsure as I was about the interview, I did have one thing going for me. B. told me loyalty was an important trait to him. If B. was recommending me as a new employee, I must be worth him taking a second glance of consideration. Still, I waited with bated breath. Especially after I heard what I was truly up against, the risk I was willing to take in the name of obtaining full-time employment...anywhere. I was in for a shocker.
If I were to take the position, it would not be downtown. It would be at a brand new clinic he was in the process of opening up on the northside of Chicago. He already had two existing clinics, one in the suburbs of Chicago and the other near downtown. The epitome of a businessman attempting to close a successful deal, he strategized and bargained. We could both benefit, he coaxed. With my help, he could establish another avenue of his business in the hopes of longterm growth, professional profit, and the utmost reputation of what we could offer to 'consumers.' With his help, I could seize the opportunity for what it would ultimately turn out to be: one helluva learning experience.....nothing I could ever find in a graduate school textbook or the most experiential/role playing of intellectual classes. He was offering me the School of Hard Knocks.
I knew what to expect from academia. Papers, practicums, analyzing hypothetical situations. I didn't know what to expect from this. I would be the only counselor, working with only a few other staff members. I would not be micromanaged, nor have supervision readily available. I would need to deactivate a security alarm to walk through the door every day for safety reasons. I would be starting my day while most people in the city of Chicago were still sleeping, 6am. I would have to put on somewhat of a front that I knew what I was doing or I would be eaten alive by manipulative addicts. I was scared shitless. And I accepted the position.
The first few weeks were devoted to rudimentary training basics and then.....I was on. my. own.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
How it all began
I officially started writing for my potential 'book' today. We'll see what happens with it. For now my goal is to just write. Intricate details and concerns will come later, if it's meant to be. Here's what I have thus far:
If you were to tell me 10 years ago that I would one day work with heroin and cocaine (and everything but the kitchen sink) addicts at a methadone clinic, I would: 1. have no idea what you're talking about, asking 'What is a methadone clinic?' (that's how nieve I was back then) 2. have thought you were crazy and 3. think you must have me confused with someone else.
During graduate school, Introduction to Substance Abuse was a required course for all students regardless of the specific master's program they were in. I remember thinking the class was interesting, and somewhat intimidating. Aside from a lame DARE education class I had to take in 6th grade and exposure to pot during high school and college, I had no knowledge or experience with drugs and addiction.
It was Winter Term of 2003. The best assignment for the substance abuse class entailed a requirement of attending three ("open," meaning they are open to non-addicts as well) 12 step meetings of my choice and then writing a short paper about the experience. I remember being completely fascinated by each one, in very distinct ways.
I went to Alcoholics Anonymous, Crystal Meth Anonymous, and Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Alcoholics Anonymous seemed the most open, welcoming, cheerful, and spiritual of the three. A young twentysomething woman approached me afterward to ask me if I needed a sponsor. I was touched, even though I was not in need of help. Narcotics Anonymous was the night to AA's day. My least favorite of the three, I found it to be secretive and borderline creepy. Crystal Meth Anonymous was especially unique. A room of 15-20 gay men sitting in a circle, with me being the only woman. I asked if they were comfortable with me being there and that I would leave if they were not, but they graciously accepted me into their circle. I listened to their powerful stories and even joined them for dinner at a nearby restaurant, an after-meeting ritual of theirs.
I was in awe of their process of healing, a resilience from darker times in their lives. After completing my assignments, I began to think about what it would be like to work with individuals struggling with addiction and recovery. A part of me thought "I want to do that someday." That chance would come sooner than I ever could have imagined.
In the same class, I remember my professor (brilliant though he was) only barely touching the surface of heroin addiction and the brief mention of methadone. Granted, there was an incredible amount of topics to cover for an intro class. Looking back, however, I wish he had spent more time educating the class on heroin addiction treatment and methadone maintainence. The only thing that was mentioned about it had a negative connotation and if I recall correctly, fed into the myths and judgmental attitudes prevalent in society. It is sad that even academia (especially in psychology!) can perpetuate negative stereotypes. But I'm getting off topic.....
Two years later, spring of 2005. I was studying nonstop for my master's exam in marriage and family therapy. In the midst of my overly prepared study time, my anxiety level continued to rise. The clock was ticking and I would soon be thrust into the 'real world.' This means....I needed to find a full-time professional counseling job. I was slightly freaking out and networking, networking, networking.
My marriage and family peer T had some students from our program over to her place for some drinks and appetizers one night. I started talking with B, whom I had lost touch with since she graduated months prior. Curious as to what she had been doing since I last saw her, she told me she was currently working as a counselor at a methadone clinic downtown. I became all the more curious, especially after she informed me they might have a potential opening for another counselor.
I asked question after endless question on that night and days to follow. I remember having a very interesting conversation with her over margaritas at Cesars shortly thereafter, learning all the fascinating and intense details of the job.
While I did not know what I was getting myself into, needing to find any counseling job was a driving force for me at that time. Had that not been the case, I might not have pursued the job opportunity. I was persistent about obtaining the position and about two months later, I would be working at a methadone maintainence clinic.....with absolutely no applicable knowledge or prior experience of addiction whatsoever.
If you were to tell me 10 years ago that I would one day work with heroin and cocaine (and everything but the kitchen sink) addicts at a methadone clinic, I would: 1. have no idea what you're talking about, asking 'What is a methadone clinic?' (that's how nieve I was back then) 2. have thought you were crazy and 3. think you must have me confused with someone else.
During graduate school, Introduction to Substance Abuse was a required course for all students regardless of the specific master's program they were in. I remember thinking the class was interesting, and somewhat intimidating. Aside from a lame DARE education class I had to take in 6th grade and exposure to pot during high school and college, I had no knowledge or experience with drugs and addiction.
It was Winter Term of 2003. The best assignment for the substance abuse class entailed a requirement of attending three ("open," meaning they are open to non-addicts as well) 12 step meetings of my choice and then writing a short paper about the experience. I remember being completely fascinated by each one, in very distinct ways.
I went to Alcoholics Anonymous, Crystal Meth Anonymous, and Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Alcoholics Anonymous seemed the most open, welcoming, cheerful, and spiritual of the three. A young twentysomething woman approached me afterward to ask me if I needed a sponsor. I was touched, even though I was not in need of help. Narcotics Anonymous was the night to AA's day. My least favorite of the three, I found it to be secretive and borderline creepy. Crystal Meth Anonymous was especially unique. A room of 15-20 gay men sitting in a circle, with me being the only woman. I asked if they were comfortable with me being there and that I would leave if they were not, but they graciously accepted me into their circle. I listened to their powerful stories and even joined them for dinner at a nearby restaurant, an after-meeting ritual of theirs.
I was in awe of their process of healing, a resilience from darker times in their lives. After completing my assignments, I began to think about what it would be like to work with individuals struggling with addiction and recovery. A part of me thought "I want to do that someday." That chance would come sooner than I ever could have imagined.
In the same class, I remember my professor (brilliant though he was) only barely touching the surface of heroin addiction and the brief mention of methadone. Granted, there was an incredible amount of topics to cover for an intro class. Looking back, however, I wish he had spent more time educating the class on heroin addiction treatment and methadone maintainence. The only thing that was mentioned about it had a negative connotation and if I recall correctly, fed into the myths and judgmental attitudes prevalent in society. It is sad that even academia (especially in psychology!) can perpetuate negative stereotypes. But I'm getting off topic.....
Two years later, spring of 2005. I was studying nonstop for my master's exam in marriage and family therapy. In the midst of my overly prepared study time, my anxiety level continued to rise. The clock was ticking and I would soon be thrust into the 'real world.' This means....I needed to find a full-time professional counseling job. I was slightly freaking out and networking, networking, networking.
My marriage and family peer T had some students from our program over to her place for some drinks and appetizers one night. I started talking with B, whom I had lost touch with since she graduated months prior. Curious as to what she had been doing since I last saw her, she told me she was currently working as a counselor at a methadone clinic downtown. I became all the more curious, especially after she informed me they might have a potential opening for another counselor.
I asked question after endless question on that night and days to follow. I remember having a very interesting conversation with her over margaritas at Cesars shortly thereafter, learning all the fascinating and intense details of the job.
While I did not know what I was getting myself into, needing to find any counseling job was a driving force for me at that time. Had that not been the case, I might not have pursued the job opportunity. I was persistent about obtaining the position and about two months later, I would be working at a methadone maintainence clinic.....with absolutely no applicable knowledge or prior experience of addiction whatsoever.
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