After meeting with my vocational counselor and the instructor of the social skills class I've been taking these past six weeks, we all agreed that I'd gotten what I came for and that this morning's meeting would be my last.
I'm not entirely clear what's next in the process, but I'll be meeting with my counselor one day soon to go over that, to find out what I have next to look forward to. Before the class started, I emailed her, in search of reassurance that this wouldn't just be a big, uncomfortable waste of time. I needed the incentive of finding a job, of a paycheck, of my potential independence, saying, "At this point, confidence and improved self-esteem just aren't gonna cut it. I'd rather swallow broken glass." (Dramatic? Who...me?) :-) But now that it's over - now that I've potentially made some new friends, now that I've proven again I'm capable of doing something that at first glance I thought I couldn't, now that I've connected with genuinely nice people who'll make me smile when remembered, now that I find myself one experience closer to Ease - finding work will simply be icing on the cake. If all I got from this brief chapter are these good feelings I have, then I'm cool with that. Work will find a way.
Over the years, I've become notorious for starting things - classes, jobs, etc. - and then quitting come the slightest fear or discomfort. Now I have actual evidence, no matter how meager, that suggests maybe, just maybe, that isn't who I am anymore. It's a victory, and a rewrite, I'll gladly take.