Goodbye Old Frien-a-mie

It’s come down to this.  July 23rd, I’ll serve my last shift in the mental health field, and resign my position with Fort Logan Mental Hospital here in Denver.  Nine years ago this was a new field for me, now I feel the need to move away from it with impudence.  The field has been helpful, informative; but here in the end, the right move, is to move away.

Nine years ago I’d crash landed just outside of Denver, in Aurora; right on Illif and Blackhawk.  My car went down, and my hustle got me out.  I’d scored a job with a hybrid online school, that wouldn’t start until the fall--it was May.  I had to survive.  I’d found a job spinning signs to make ends meet, but I was homeless staying in a shelter.  Then June hit, and Excelsior interviewed me.  I had experience working with kids, but knew nothing of psychology, mental health, treatment centers, or “going hands on.”  Excelsior stabilized me economically.  By the end of the summer I had a job with decent pay, somewhere to lay my head other than a homeless shelter, and was working on getting a car.

I worked the cottages, worked with the girls, learned about triggers, self-care, strength based care, trauma informed care, CPI, manual holds, grabs, and got my cardio in just about every shift while running around campus behind our clients.  It was mental health, it was hard, they were young girls who’d been abused, and it was our job to keep them safe.  

For 5 years I did that.  And I had progressed.  I was the only supervisor to go from being a campus counselor to a supervisor.  I worked my ass off, and felt a true sense of loss when Excelsior closed their doors.

Yet other doors were starting to open.  I’d gotten another teaching job as a technology teacher with Columbia Middle School--it was a great fit, and I was excited.  Then fatherhood came, and more money was needed.  I thought I’d left working in the mental health field behind.  I was wrong.  I had applied for a state job with Fort Logan Mental Institute.  The job description seemed familiar; work with adults who have mental health issues in a locked hospital setting.  

I didn’t want to go back into mental health.  I was happy in education, I loved working with my kids, I loved working with the information, rather than behaviors.  But I needed money, I had a little one on the way, and the hospital was paying more than the school.  So back I went.  

Back into the behaviors, and outburst, the delusions, the checks, the feeling of being on guard, while knowing the importance of building relationships.  

I need to process--a term mental health professionals know all too well.  It means take a step back, look at the whole of a situation; weigh the pros and cons, see where you were wrong, and see where you are right.  Through these next couple of entries I’ll go back, and look at the pros and the cons; see where I went right, and where I should have improved.

But at the end of the day, my last day here will be July 23rd.  Like any good milieu worker, I have a plan, there is structure, and barring any critical incidents, we’ll get to that date smoothly.  

I look forward to processing the last three years at “the fort” with you--