Sweet goodbyes.

Hey readers.

I kinda sit here wondering what happened to my life, my plans. I was going to be a successful social worker, making change from inside the system, living comfortably with myself, and who I have become. I mean, I never presumed I would be in love and in a committed relationship by the age of 31. I never expected to be well-off (financially), and I certainly didn't believe I would be famous. I never expected them, though sometimes I hoped. I never, however, thought I would have the doubts about myself that I still have to this day. I guess I expected that I would be a grown up.

This blog is soon to become the life and lessons of a well-educated woman, squandering her degree (earned through blood sweat and tears) and working again in the field of "I'll take what I can get". That being said, I have been blessed with opportunity. I will be working part time at a bar - the one I worked at for years and had some wonderful times within. I will also be working as a nanny. Shocking, I know. Who the hell put ME in charge of child care? It's no secret that I don't want to have children, but I don't believe that disqualifies me from loving children, and caring for them. Oh, the adventures we will have. Stay tuned!

With one new chapter beginning, one closes. Today, I ran into an ex-client on the street. I was her counsellor for a year. The thing about going on medical leave is that as soon as your doctor writes you off, you are *unable* to work. In my case, that meant... no more contact with clients. I lay in bed for nights worrying about the 20 some-odd youth I left without any explanation. Keeping in mind, these are resilient youth to which disappearance is normal. Sad, but true. I guess I just didn't want to be added to the list of disappointments. Of course, I kept my ego in check. I realized that in most cases, my clients wouldn't care that I was going to be replaced by a colleague. But there was one. There was one who I KNEW would feel hurt and betrayed by my sudden withdrawal.

We met today on the streets downtown. I still feel obligated to keep our conversation privileged. I will say this - I let her down. But she still told me how much our time together meant to her. And I told her how much working with her had meant to me.

We both stood in the middle of the street, tears streaming down our faces. It was a happy greeting, and a very sad goodbye. I didn't want to stop hugging her and let her go, because I knew it was a chance meeting. This was someone I had seen once a week for a year, and I had to let her go. It was by far the most significant moment in my life that I've had in years.

I'm left with a million emotions. I'm happy that she is well, because I was so, so worried. I'm sad that I will be unable to attend her *very hard earned* high school graduation. (Needless to say, I always knew she'd get there.) I'm angry because my stupid fucking health crap got in the way of seeing her victories through... of being there until SHE no longer needed or wanted my support. It should have been her decision. I cut her off before she wanted to be cut off. I wanted to be there until she was ready to say goodbye. I hate that until now, I didn't get to explain what happened. I didn't get to explain that it wasn't that I *forgot* to contact her, it was that I was not legally allowed to do so. I hate that I was just a blip on the radar for so many youth who meant so much to me - not because of my job, but because of how incredibly amazing they are. And I am so very humbled... so very very humbled... to have someone tell me how important I was to her in a difficult time in her life.

I will never feel like my three years as a counsellor were a waste. Because I know that there is one person out there who was thankful for my presence, even if for a brief period of time.

I wish I could say I felt peaceful with today's events. But all I can feel is complete anger at myself and my situation. I'm so jealous of those counsellors I worked with who didn't have mental health problems, who got to see youth come and go on their OWN terms - not the terms of the clinician. I feel as though I began working with a number of youth, giving them this promise of stability. When I had to break that promise, I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. A chance to explain that sometimes, us adults are just as fucked up as the people we are trying to help.

I guess I've been kinda fooling myself. I don't just want to take a year off from my chosen career. I don't trust myself to be able to make attachments like that again. I don't trust that I won't fall apart because of my own shit. I know that in most cases it doesn't make a difference, but what about those few where it does? I don't feel strong enough right now to take that chance. And the person who is missing out is me.

PS