Chapter 28: Ongoing Challenges and Shyness
When I started working on the Crisis Unit, I saw an opportunity to move up into a position of Qualified Professional (QP). I would not be getting paid of mileage because I was not transporting anyone. I accepted this image believing that the position where I had been working for an extended period of time was not going to continue to exist.
In many ways, I was thrown into this position. I was instructed to speak to the director of the Crisis Unit at Freedom House. He had interviewed me along with Sherisse when I was originally hired by Freedom House Recovery Center.
This was pitched as additional duties for me but there was some rule that stated that I could not be employed in two different roles under two different departments. This meant that I received a letter that one might receive if they were leaving a company and then a new hire letter for a similarly titled position at the different department.
I also had previously looked at how with a Master of Social Work degree, I met the requirements for the credential or designation of QP (Qualified Professional - or more specifically Qualified Mental Health Professional). I thought as I was starting the first week that I would see if I could bring this up and mention that I thought I qualified for this higher ranking position and could I receive a higher salary.
They agreed and so I had moved from a position where I was shadowing a peer bridger - a position that did not require any degree - into a position where I was getting some credit and recognition for my degree.
In many ways this created an amazing situation for me. I was working directly with people in a mental health related field and getting credit for the advanced education that I had. The salary was not much higher but this additional recognition was definitely a bonus. It wasn’t like all that education and effort was for nothing.
The problem was that this was not exactly a mental health crisis unit. It was strictly focused on detox. This is when a person has what they call a substance use disorder - according to the DSM-V-TR (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Health Disorders - Fifth Edition - Text Revision)… and that person wants to quit and get sober. That substance could be alcohol. It is very difficult to get off alcohol if you have been using it every single day for an extended period of time.
Anyway, the 12-step programs of AA and NA are still the go to method used in this field. Recovery ultimately did not come from the latest scientific advancements in psychology and neuroscience but from a mutual aid support program where people turned their lives over to a “higher power.”
It’s important to realize that the issues of how my licensure was surrendered by me in 2001 were based on the notion that I planted memories of Satanic Ritual Abuse. The reader is referred to the first section of this book and the involvement of John F. who composed the grievance letters for my clients which they signed. If you look up Satanic Ritual Abuse on Wikipedia, you will learn about the Satanic Panic in which certain mental health professionals, including social workers, ascribed a good versus evil mentality to explain why people had such a bizarre and disturbingly fascinating condition.
In the west, Satan was the symbol of evil in movies and in literature. I had found it strange that at times, in the Bible, Satan was just someone in heaven who disobeyed and at other times challenged God. He challenges God to find out if Job will remain faithful to God if he loses everything.
This was not the evil of a Nazi murdering children. This was not the evil of a sadistic serial killer who tortures victims. It wasn’t even the evil doctors and “programmers” who were thought to work with children and torture them to create the manchurian candidate - a programmed alter personality that would respond so some cue and complete some task which left the person with no memory of what they had done.
The latter scenario involved deeply disturing things being done to children. For dissociative identity disorder to develop, those with a religious leaning and a little psychological understanding would suggest that before the age of 6 the children were subjected to purposefully traumatic experiences to program the mind to split into various alters or personalities.
This conspiracy theory involved Satanic cults and the government working together with a unified plan. This conspiracy theory had been circulating since the 80s and I stumbled upon it in 2000 with the stories my clients were presenting in therapy sessions… the same clients who had started to work with me in 1998.
To me, I was being challenged with accusations of being one of those who had gotten caught up in overly zealous religious thinking that led to the Satanic Panic. In reality, I merely considered that bad people had used symbolism that would terrorify children in the western society.
All of this could make up a book in itself.
Yet, even was a Christian, I was very skeptical and I had a scientific background.
This was one of many factors that set the stage for me to break with religion entirely. For those who are religious and want to understand this, consider a crisis of faith. Imagine you are Jewish in the aftermath of the Holocaust.
God didn’t rain down fire upon the Nazis. He doesn’t melt every Nazi as in the Indiana Jones movie. Even a pacifist, like me, who has tried to see the good in everyone, remembers the shock and state of mine I felt after watching “Schindler’s List” and even I would cheer to see Nazis melted alive. But that was not what happened. Six million Jews were exterminated by the Nazis.
You probably wouldn’t be shocked if some of them or many of them doubted the existence of God and became atheists. For seven months, I daily prayed to God and despite the claims of some, that I survived this or that somehow God was with me during this time, I was not getting any answers that a good god would offer. Not a god who had any sense of justice or love.
It would only require touching the minds and hearts of a few people - my family, the lawyers, the judges, the detectives.
Let’s just say that by the time I found myself in 2024 on the detox unit, I was not enamored by the notion that healing and recovery could only come from a “higher power.” I was not going to church like every other American - or so it seemed.
My job was to connect them with stable housing and treatment when they completed their detox time. This was often or as a rule built around sytems that required participation in a 12-step program and in many cases, pastors and other religious leaders with no formal training in mental health related treatment were bringing Jesus and Christianity into the daily routine and treatment for those they accepted.
I was an advocate for those who were disturbed by the mandatory imposition of these ideas on people, some of whom did believe in God but wanted a little less demand to conform to a set of beliefs.
I learned that many of the staff had a substance use disorder diagnosis or history. They had gone or were going to groups where they said “Hi, my name is… and I am a an… “addict” or “alcoholic.” This had saved them.
Not only that, the treatment program was run more like a prison than a treatment program. I was asked to report on the behavior of “addicts” who I thought were acting in ways that were explained by their disease. Even within the framework of 12-step models, addiction was a disease. This explained the irrational behavior of people who continued to use drugs and substances that threatened their lives.
There was an understanding regarding this but if someone did something that could affect the recovery of another person they were excited about catching the person.
Many people were caught up in this and in general anyone who had ever used was viewed with great suspicion, was treated like a child. It escalated in my mind to what I saw as abuse of others.
I was very much triggered by this. I had a conflict with the regular “shift lead,” whose role I filled when he was sick. Staff members who had been using serious drugs - shooting up heroin into their veins when I was at an age where I was getting a college education were resentful of having to have me sign off on their notes “just because they didn’t have a degree.”
Yet, to complete my role, I had to know about “resources” so I could suggest things to clients who would come to me and ask my opinion and advice. I had no experience with the recovery from addictions or substances culture and so I knew nothing and had to rely on others.
Tensions existed between me and the normal shift lead as well as other staff. Originally things were great. I was going out to events after work in the community. I thought I had friends.
Without the toxic religious influences of my past I could enjoy burlesque performances and see attractive ladies.
The idea of toxic religious influences is a matter for an entire book in itself. Suffice it to say that when I was with Lynn, we couldn’t get married because her health condition required health care maintance and access to medical care. If we got married they would count both of our incomes. When her mother bought a house for us to call home, it was not for us to be roommates. This was after Lynn and I got married.
As a Christian, I always thought that two people should be married before they had sexual experiences. That might seem extreme. Even those who consider sexuality to be private matter that you don’t discuss at work were not avoiding sex outside marriage. Yet, for me, when I was a Christian, I had told myself that in the eyes of God, Lynn and I are married.
This was not a perfect solution. I still carried a bit of shame and doubt about this. There in the dark recesses of my mind was the unnecessary and toxic guilt. It bubbled up into statements that made Lynn ask if I regretted what we did to express our love for one another as a couple. Of course, I responded immediately saying that I did not regret showing her that I was in love with her and that love was a beautiful thing.
Yet, I had planted the doubt or discomfort in her mind. My own feelings were expressed in a way that did not reflect the peace of serenity of love.
Fast forward to 2024 and I was embracing burlesque shows where ladies stripped down and revealed almost everything. It was seductive without being tawdry and otherwise wrapped in the negative stereotypes of a show where strippers performed.
After a problematic encounter with the girlfriend mentioned in the earlier chapter, I reached out to the OCRCC for help and was seeing a therapist funded by them. She and I were celebrating this.
I still had things to learn. I had no one in my life at this time. Someone at work at Freedom House on the Crisis Unit seemed friendly to me. I tried to be delicate and cautious about determining if this was a potential match. I discovered for the first time that there is a rule that one should not date someone with whom one works. It was stated by my therapist and a staff member as a rule that I ought to know.
Or was it? Was it just advice? Yes, it could be awkward if things didn’t work out. But this happens all the time. There are countless ways that things could be awkward in life after a breakup. Yet, with Elee and I, things were fine.
I am uncomfortable mentioning the end of my employment with Freedom House with this example of thinking a coworker might be someone toward which I had romantic feelings. As I got to know her, she wasn’t presented herself toward me as a good match for me. I also had no knowledge of anything in particular that I could have done that would have made her uncomfortable. I had never asked her out or said anything remotely flirtatious or romantic in nature.
There were plenty of people who were uncomfortable with me on that unit.
Therefore, I did not know exactly what the reason was for why I was terminated shortly after I started working on the Crisis Unit in April of 2024, a few days after my birthday. I was summarily dismissed based on “boundary issues” with staff. I had made someone uncomfortable. My own discomfort did not matter.
I began by fighting to get unemployment benefits and argued that I had never been told of anything in particular that I did on any particular date or time that violated any policy and resulted in my termination. It had also come a day after I complained about the abuse and threats that I felt from the shift lead who was not technically my supervisor but was in charge of the unit at certain times. I had also pointed out that I wanted them to recognize my gender identity and to use my pronouns of they/them/their.
I thought that made it very suspicious that I was terminated the very next day after this meeting.
I had written extensive letters to the supervisor on the unit and made a complaint to the EEOC - the equal employment opportunity commission - on the suggestion of my friend Sarah. She meant well but I might have burned bridges with the company and the right to find employment on a different unit.
Other Uncomfortable Interactions and My Shyness
It had taken a tremendous amount of courage to start attending the burlesque performances. I met someone at a Racism Discussion Group in Durham and she seemed very friendly, intelligent, warm, and relatable. She had a professional position that had nothing to do with burlesque and I had no idea that she was appearing in such a way that would capture my attention in this manner. She even responded to me after the Meetup event.
She was a beautiful black lady and I had been mostly dating black ladies. Celta and Lynn who were my true loves were white but based on objective measures of attractiveness, I was more drawn to black ladies than white ladies. Lynn knew this but never thought that I preferred a black lady to her.
Anyway, Candice was her name. I met her at the Racism Discussion Meetup group. It took me months to attend one of her performances. She did greet me with a hug when I saw her. She was only 31 and I was 58.
The on and off girlfriend that I had just previously with some overlap during this time was black.
I was amazed at how beautiful Candice was but I knew she was too young.
After the first attendance I started going more often to her performances and this overlapped with the time when I went with the saff and a my supervisor on the Crisis Unit at Freedom House.
There was a performance in which I showed up and Candice seemed uncomfortable. I made conversation to break the ice. When I asked to keep in touch and discuss the topics related to racism, at first she was thinking that I was asking her out. I explained that that was not my intention and I knew there was an age difference.
During this performance a lady appeared - a beautiful black lady - dressed in the suggested colors and glitter of the occasion. She ended up taking a seat next to me. It was amazing. She was older than Candice and a potential match. Upon reflection later, I thought I should have offered to buy her a drink.
Yes, she, the beautiful black lady dressed in white, had said that Candice was starting after we had been speaking for a while. Yet, I could have done something between songs. This didn’t occur at a location that was right nearby in the Raleigh, Durham, Chapel Hill area. So, I wasn’t likely to see her again.
This was one of the rare occasions when one might meet someone who could be available and they just escape… because maybe they assumed that you are not interested.
Candice had seemed more comfortable when I explained that I was not seeking to date her. She even told me that the best way to reach her was through Instagram as opposed to Facebook and we could discuss racism topics. She couldn’t promise anything because she had many responsibilities.
I had been fascilitating a support group on Meetup with a name of “Social Anxiety, Shyness, Loneliness and Social Skills” support group. I was embracing my experience as a therapist. Yet, I started the group because I had been lonely around the holidays going back to 2022.
This is how I met the girlfriend that I mentioned.
Initially, I was attending the burlesque shows and saying that I was there because I knew Candice and mostly at the shows where she performed, no performer was greeting anyone and acting like they were friends with any of the attendees. So, I felt special when Candice always greeted me with a hug and thanked me for coming.
This made me feel special.
At one particular performance, I met someone whose name was Pearl. I won’t reveal her full identity. I was enchanted by her performance and her focus on me during the performance. For the first time in my life, at that particular performance, I approached her at the bar during an intermission.
I waited for her to be free. I felt an artificial sense of confidence because I didn’t think I was appraoching a lady sitting alone at a bar. I thought of it as approaching a performer as a patron and fan. She had done a performance to the song “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac and while the singer of that band, Stevie Nicks was a symbol of beauty, this Pearl was so much more beautiful.
During the conversation, I got about 3 hugs which was amazing to me. It felt amazing. I had been through so much that it seemed to have aged me and made me believe that I must be older than anyone beautiful. In fact, I had experiences where I thought that people who were just 30 or so were my age.
So, I said that I wished she was younger… and it came across in a way that expressed my interest in her. She said, “it’s not that but I have someone in my life.”
Wait, what? So, an incredibly beautiful lady could be in my age range and if she didn’t have someone she might go for me?
It shouldn’t be too surprising because the girlfriend was about 19 years younger than me and incredibly beautiful.
I attended another show with Pearl and after her performance she came and sat next to me. I was literally blown away by how incredibly gorgeous she looked. It was exciting and feelings and reactions were occuring in me that I had not known previously. I felt confident enough to tell her that while I liked how risque the performance was overall, but when I saw her she was gorgeous… and that was different.
When she entered the room before her performance it was obvious that she was excited to see me. This was amazing even if she had a boyfriend. I could still be her friend like I had been in college. Usually, I wasn’t attracted to those young ladies but that didn’t matter. Some were attractive but I was just friends with them.
The way she looked took my breath away. I was in awe.
I might have expressed this too much online and made her uncomfortable or her boyfriend was uncomfortable. Pearl had been following me and my posts online but this changed.
Shortly after that, I got a message from Candice on Instagram. It was after a performance where she appeared. It was rather vague. But I had apparently done something innapropriate. I could not begin to imagine what that was. I was never alone with anyone. I never was even as animated or social as others at the shows.
This made me feel incredibly awkward around Candice and she had asked that we not discuss the matter. Originally, I had played dumb like I had with my father growing up when I failed to acknowledge looks of disapproval. Then I tried to explain how I had no idea what I did that crossed a line or boundary.
I was all confused. I didn’t know what I was doing that was wrong.
The support group where I was fascilitating and trying to help others with less social skills had ended a while ago. People had stopped coming and I was losing both my confidence and my motivation to do this.