I Quit

At ten something this morning, I called up the Boss Lady's boss. I didn't know what I was going to say until I said it. "I can't do this anymore." I elaborated a bit, a short version of my post last night. She was neither surprised nor upset. In the least. Clearly I saved her some disagreeableness of her own--like telling me that I would not be continuing to teach the Parent/Teen class the next time. I said it for her and she agreed, "Yes, we are going with another teacher next time." I knew it when she pulled in Patty Pigtails two weeks ago, but when I asked her then, she just said that Patty P. needed more hours.

Permit me a short disquisition on how much I FUCKING HATE THAT SORT OF BULLSHIT. Christ, if people who counsel others on "keeping it real" can't keep it real themselves--! But why should I be surprised? I know that most of us (present company definitely included) got into the therapy business because we once sat in the client's chair and thought, "Hey, I could do that." That being the case, it makes perfect sense that most of us still qualify for the DSM in one way or another.

So--now what?

Well, that's the end of my career as a Marriage & Family Therapist Intern. I've burnt enough bridges and there are so few of them here that I can say, to slightly change the title of the Julia Phillips book, I'll Never Work As An MFT-I In This Town Again. Knowing that was part of my calculations as to how I wanted to handle this situation. Am I sad about that? Somewhat. But relieved as well. And excited. That I can say, for the first time, stand up straight, breathe in and admit: I failed at this. Despite my best intentions, I couldn't do it. Instead of being humiliated, I feel liberated.

I'm in one of those periods in my life when the pieces that have been hurtling through the air are beginning to slow down, to seem to be wafting into some sort of discernible pattern. Call it the jigsaw puzzle of the rest of my life--and doesn't ByJane seem a good place to work at solving it?