I finally began sleeping again, but my mind continued stumbling and falling as I leveled off. My thoughts raced and the urge to write and rewrite articles continued. I found myself checking my email and Facebook accounts every five minutes. My mind, once busy with projects, fell empty, and I raced to fill the space with activity.
I was sullen and quiet. There were no words for me to say. I hid from my family in my office pretending to work.
I started feeling afraid of the consequences of my actions. I didn’t understand the tax implications of how I formed the business and panic set in. Regret. I wish I hadn’t done it.
I avoided the business website that I took such care to build. The dream that I had for myself was based on foolish ideas. I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t know about it. I was done with myself.
There’s a not-so-insignificant problem with the ”dream” job that I so hastily accepted. It is based in Oregon, with participants from around the country. As laughable as it sounds, I am a licensed professional clinical counselor in my state. Although my official job title is Social Skills Coach, and I work with speech and language pathologists with no training in counseling, according to the Board of Behavioral Health and Therapy, I am acting within the scope of a licensed counselor outside of the state where I am licensed.
I contacted my ethics professor and advisor from graduate school. He is a founding member of the board and is still active in board decisions. He confirmed my conflict and told me that as per the board I would be practicing counseling outside of the state with my state license. This is, of course, not allowed. He noted that the way that I was described on the company website did not include my license and called me “coach” and therefore I might have wiggle room if I used the term “instructor” as well. Ultimately, he said that the board will only find out if someone complains about me and then I will simply get a letter from the board telling me to cease and desist. I never got a straight answer about what I should do.
I struggled to understand how I actively pursued an out-of-state job without thinking about my licensure requirements. Although I was told this would merit no more than a slap on the wrist, I worried that I could lose my license.
In the process of worrying about my license, I realized that in the frenzy of the days that had passed, I had forgotten to renew it and it had expired. I had to go through the process of renewing an expired license and pay the extra fees. How did that happen?
In the midst of it all, one of my oldest friends died of Covid after a 6 week battle in the hospital. I was devastated. In the early days of his hospital stay, I had texted him three times a day. Then he was sedated and eventually put on the vent, and I wrote him every day just hoping somehow he would be able to absorb what I was saying. His death was a tragic loss, and I grieved for the past and for our broken future.
My heart raced, blood pounded through the veins in my head like thunder breaking in the sky, my arms were numb. I was afraid and shocked by all that had happened.
My psychiatrist often told me that things always get better and I knew she was right.
I thought I could go on, but it would take time.
