I don't know where to begin, or what to say, other than: I'm processing.
I am processing a loss that triggered a much larger loss, that, when viewed retrospectively, shows an even larger loss. I'll try to explain...
I've been working on a master's degree in clinical mental health counseling since 2011. All of my required coursework was completed in May 2015. I earned A's in all of my classes except one (PsychoPharmacology, I got a B). Since that time (and even prior) I've been trying to secure an internship - a required finish to the program. In essence, I needed 240 direct client contact hours and 360 indirect hours, some of which I've already completed. I was told I would need to audio-record all sessions with clients (with their consent, of course). Then, when I finished my internship, I would do my defense where I would present one of my cases to my professors and would have to defend my choice of treatment strategies against their questioning and scrutiny.
Most of my academic colleagues were fearful of defense; I was not. I felt that I would be able to defend my counseling strategies successfully; I knew I had been trained well and in all honesty, I function best (most professionally) when I am at the front of the class, behind that podium.
Trouble is, I was never able to secure an internship in the time allowed. I sent out countless resumes and had multiple interviews. Some places were even willing to take me on, but in the end, for various reasons, they all fell through. The biggest deterrent for me was finding an internship location that was close enough for me to drive to. Since the car accident in 2008 that damaged my vision, I do not drive highways. Still, there are quite a few counseling agencies and practices in the area, and i sent resumes to them all it seems. Still, nothing worked out.
Most recently, I received a very unexpected call from a private group practice nearby (less than an hour's drive from home). Both the owner of the practice and her daughter had graduated from GSU's counseling program, which i believed would be in my favor. Then I saw the place and felt even more certain that this would be the place for me...that all the other places had failed because the Universe was saving THIS one for me: it was situated in an old, early- 20th century home on the community's main street having all the charm and homey ambiance that I so enjoy. I felt, upon entering the building, that it looked as if I had done their interior decorating!! And then, the interview: it went well (from my perspective); I felt comfortable. I think I was able to be both relaxed and personable as well as professional and to-the-point. Upon completing the interview, I got the impression that there was no question that the position was mine. They never said anything about giving them time to "think it over" or that they'd "get back to me." They instead took the Memorandum of Agreement (the contract to be signed by me, the agency, and the university, that outlines expectations). They and I shared only one concern: would they be able to provide me with the direct client contact hours i needed in the short time i had to complete the internship (240 hours from January to April). They asked me to give my supervising professor their contact info to have him contact them so they could resolve that.
I drove home feeling on top of the world. I felt like it was mine and that it was meant to be. I got to work right away contacting my professor and the program supervisor to inform them that i'd been interviewed and that it looked like I had an internship at the very last moment. They responded quickly, telling me that my supervising professor would be on sabbatical but that there were other professors available to supervise me. And, much to my amazement, the program supervisor approved an extension on my internship, giving me until August to complete! I emailed the update to the agency where I interviewed and felt such a sense of pride knowing that in a matter of weeks i'd be working on my internship and that finally my dreams were becoming reality.
I had worked so hard, these past six years. I gave it my all. I put my heart and soul into it. It shaped me into the professional I was eager to officially become. This wasn't just for me; it was for my kids. I wanted them to be proud of me. And, because I'm not getting any younger, my plan was to buy a house, get a 15-year mortgage, and then have it paid off so that when I die, it would go to them. This way, they would always have a home if they needed a place. Or, if they decided to sell it and split the profit, that would also be an option, once I was gone. Besides, we desperately need to move out of the community where we currently live; finding another place to live was a huge reason why I was looking forward to getting my degree, my license, and an eventual paycheck.
One week prior to the start of the semester, I had been trying to reach the group practice where i'd interviewed; i wanted to be sure we were all on the same page and that there were no loose ends. The winter holidays were over; it was time to put it all into gear. In spite of text messages, voicemail messages and emails, I was not hearing back from them, and i began to get nervous. In fact, I began to suspect there was a problem. And then I got the email stating that they needed to retract their offer because they just didn't think they'd be able to provide me with the clinical, direct client contact hours i would need. BAM! Just like that, it was over.
It's been a week now. One week since my future disappeared right before my eyes. I'm left with nothing. In fact, I do not even know who i am right now. For six years, I have been trained to act like a professional, to dress like a professional, to think like a professional, to BE a professional - and now?? Now I am a nothing, nor will i ever BE anything. I will never be anything more that what i've always been: just a stay-at-home mom with no work history and big plans that never amounted to anything. I've wasted time and money. I've invested so much and lost even more. And there is no Plan B.
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