JUST LIKE S.W.A.T, ONLY NO GUNS

Let me explain a little bit about the CSO team.All direct care staff checked in through their office. They were the administrative arm of the center after hours and on weekends and holidays. They conducted safety related inspections campus wide (this facility had over 120 beds). They provided training for new hires and ongoing training for continuing education.Each member of the team was assigned as liaison to one of the units.
But, mostly, they did intervention - crisis intervention. When a patient ( or patients ) escalated beyond the point of the unit staff's ability to control them, they were called in to regain control and remove the patient from the unit, physically if they had to. The office had 4 security rooms, 2 that connected to security rooms in the intensive care unit and a door at the end of the hall that was connected to the dayroom of ICU. It was a very busy office. For over flow, there were 4 more security rooms up the hill at the locked units.
They were the cream of the crop, some of the most talented and dedicated people you would ever meet.
And then there was me. I had the potential to do this job and do it well. i just had to prove myself to the rest of the team, and really, the rest of the facility. That meant I had to be 100% all the time. I was.
I had many conversations with all the team members over the first month or 2 about their reservations about me. They were honest all and some cut me some slack, there were a few that predicted failure for me and seemed to hope that was the outcome, to them I was a blight on the team.
But one conversation stuck with me. My original unit coordinator and friend took me to lunch one day and...well, I couldn't really recall it clearly, beyond the fact that he wasn't sure he wanted to be my friend anymore, so I called him and asked about his recollection.
He remembered the friendship part, but recalled his primary frustration was that I was mad at Abstract for fucking me around and wasn't really accepting responsibility for being a speed freak and ruining it myself. I should be thankful that a mistake was made and I even had a job.
I was, but it took awhile to own up to that part...you know the personal responsibility thing. I was hurt by his words, but instead of focusing on that end of it, I focused on redeeming myself. He said he often regretted being so harsh.But it was the best thing for me to hear really, in the long run.
As time went by, and the interventions began racking up, I had a pretty impressive track record. People began to recognize that I was returning to that person they had come to know before I went off the track.
After about a year and a half and a couple of passover's, a position opened up on the team and I was chosen to fill it. My hard work was paying off, I was a full fledged member of an elite team.
The next couple of years were the most amazing of my professional life.
I was free of the devil speed, but my personal life still needed some work.
The girl I had hooked up with and I were living together and would stay together for 8 years. The first 4 were great, the final 4 were agonizing.