i still don't have a career, and that's okay

january 15, 2020

life is funny.

in grad school, the last time, i remember often having moments that felt like "yes, this is where i'm supposed to be" as i was studying for my classes. my textbooks were speaking my language, validating insights i had collected, and generally providing me with solid framework for better understanding and helping the healing process. 

during my practicum/internship, i was teaching as an adjunct at a community college, working at a gas station, beginning practice as a counselor, and attending 3 grad courses. it was a challenging time! but qualifying for food stamps and medicaid, together with believing i was working toward a better future, one that was financially secure, kept me pushing. 

i had gotten my first master's degree in english, and worked as an adjunct instructor for 8 years. i didn't end up a teacher because that's what i wanted to do; i ended up teaching because it was something i could do with a degree in english. i modeled my approach after the professors who had made an impact on my learning and perspective. but a combination of intellectual laziness (really just so many students who never learned to think critically by college) amongst most students as well as inconsistent income led me to feel disillusioned and unfulfilled 4 years in. i didn't know until just before a semester began how much money i was earning, because classes without enough enrollment were dropped close to the start of the semester. there were students who made the effort, participated, and were a delight to have in class. but many, like in lots of other colleges, were only there to do the bare minimum required to get that expensive piece of paper. i realized it wasn't right for me, but i didn't know what else to do. so i considered that for another 4 years, until i recognized i could switch gears completely. this meant i would need more training. hence counseling. it fit my personality, was an expanding field, served a pretty big need, and allowed me to use my brain in ways that i enjoyed. i met with the chairperson of the department, and my only question was whether i would be able to find full-time work in this field, as i was leaving my current field in order to pursue something more financially stable. he assured me the program had nearly 100% hire-rate post-graduation. so i took the chance, and went into more debt to obtain a second master's degree.

there was a lot of overlap between my studies in english and my studies for counseling. instead of learning how to interpret texts, i was learning how to interpret people. instead of learning how to be a more critical reader, i was learning how to be a more active listener. a lot of the theory we studied in the counseling program was parallel to the same theories i had studied for literature--the same lenses, just applied in different ways. a lot of it came naturally to me, and i already knew how to student. the school experience was exactly what i remembered it to be, and i appreciated the relationships i formed as a result. it took 3 years to get the degree in counseling, and i chose to focus on adults, because that was who i wanted to work with. 

fast-forward to my 3rd year out of school, working in community mental health, and i was this close to being as miserable as some of my clients. i had been hired at a facility 20 minutes from home (within the range i wanted; i was done driving over a half hour to get to work). i learned that facilities like the one i worked at are state funded. this means that there is a specific amount in the state's budget allocated to the business. this also explains why there are so many regulations, because there is a lot to comply with in order for the state to continue giving money. but it wasn't enough money. most of the counselors were hired on a contract basis. in the 3 years i worked there, there was only one official part-time person (guaranteed 28 hours per week) and maybe 3 full-time. this was because the company could not afford to pay more people a regular wage. i was making $27 per hour by my 3rd year. but with no guarantee to hours, there were some weeks i barely made 15 hours. it was really hard to work at a place where my time was not all compensated. and after a while of working long days that i was lucky to get 4 hours paid, i reduced my hours because i had no energy for anything outside of work. i couldn't afford groceries regularly (and didn't qualify for food stamps or assistance). i rarely went out. i felt bad spending money on anything fun. i rarely bought new clothes. my priority was keeping up with my rent and bills to the best of my ability, but there was always a bill or 2 that i couldn't pay on time, because i simply didn't have enough money coming in. i was there helping others to the best of my ability, showing up for them, but the company i worked for couldn't afford to show up for me. let me clarify that my boss, the director, and my coworkers were great. but they weren't in control of the money. and there was the one time i didn't get a paycheck at all. a simple error on payroll's part. it took almost a week for them to get me my check. they apologized, sure, but the time i tried to get an advance so that i could buy groceries i didn't even hear back from the lady. i knew something had to change, but what? i couldn't afford more school, and didn't have the energy to start over again. 

i vented to a bestie, who consoled me, validated my frustration, and listened as i repeated the same complaints about not earning a living wage, being sick of not knowing when i could get groceries next. sick of not being compensated for my time. sick of feeling worse when i was actually sick because i didn't have sick days, and getting hit with a serious infection one spring meant losing over $600 precious dollars.

so when that same friend offered me a receptionist job, because she and her boss (insurance brokers) had just let go their former receptionist and it was about to be open enrollment...well, how could i say no to 40 guaranteed hours a week, 2 blocks from my new home? 

i didn't have much time to process anything for a couple months. i had fallen in love, moved in with my boyfriend (not as bold a move at this age, thank you self-awareness), and changed jobs into a completely new field between july and october. then open enrollment began, and my head was just trying to keep up with the busy season for medical insurance. 

once the dust began to settle, the holidays began. and as the end of the year approached, i got reflective, as i am apt to do. i realized i didn't miss counseling. not all that counseling had been regulated to be. i missed the working relationship i had with my clients. but nothing else. not the stress. not the insufficient pay and constant worrying about money. not the things i was expected to do to keep up with professional standards. not the very specific interventions i needed to be able to use for very specific cases, but could not find training for (that i could afford). not feeling like a number in a company--an expendable appendage in the many arms of community mental health.

there are times when i question the path i took. i know--i know; my path has led me to where i am. i am exactly where i'm supposed to be, et cetera, et cetera. but it's hard not to question your choices when those choices cost you over seventy-thousand dollars that you will be paying back forever. i still don't earn enough to save much. i still have no buffer if a big expense comes along. but i'm slowly building my credit and might be able to qualify for a credit card soon. it's nice having food consistently. it's nice knowing that i can pay all of my bills. and, if i'm being honest, it's nice not having to hear about trauma all the time.

i know you have to be a certain kind of person to be in the counseling field. and i think in the right situation, with a small caseload, i would be fine. but like so many other things--once i was relying on that skill for income, i became miserable. not just because of the pay, but because i don't enjoy having to use tactics to help someone. i embrace many of the tenets of playing the counselor role, but i'm finding i prefer simply to be a friend. i find the reciprocity and honesty of friendship to be much more fulfilling. i'm glad i had the opportunity to work with others and help them. i'm honored to have had the chance to work with some people for the entire length of my employment at the facility. but i don't want to deal with medications. i don't want to deal with regulations. i don't want to deal with insurance companies trying to dictate treatment, and i don't want to feel like i have to do more just to get paid appropriately. there are systemic issues i cannot fix that will likely prevent me from going back to counseling.

and that is okay. it's okay not to know what's next. it's okay not to have a clear plan for the future. it's okay to be where i'm at, AND it's okay to feel content with where i am. how many times have i found myself in a position that some people would consider scary. how many times have i pulled through? all of them. often with help from friends and family. but i persist, somehow. things are better than they were. i have this wonderful relationship, which i never expected to happen. i love my home. i love my job! i love having a boss and coworker who are both strong, amazing women, and who express their appreciation for me regularly. i love working at a place that is cozier, where i have access to all the coffee i desire (i only have 2 cups a day because otherwise i can't sleep). i don't get an official lunch break, but that's why i don't feel bad when i blog at work.  

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