Yeah, yeah...6 months...I'm back...blah, blah, blah....
I have some big life stuff to sort out and I am having real trouble with it. Maybe going back to a free form writing space will help? Couldn't hurt.
I decided in the spring, I am ready to be near my family again. My affair with NYC is just about over and I want to leave while the break-up is still amicable. Since then, I have acquired my California Board of Behavioral Sciences registration and appliled to upwards of 60 positions. I meditate, recite affirmations, maintain support from loved ones, and continue to apply. I construct well thought out cover letters, I follow up, I re-apply, and in moments of frustration I return to the aforementioned spiritual work. It's been six months of this. I figured this is where I have to dig deep for the inner strength to keep my spirits up and the applications flowing. I remind myself that my job is out there and I just need to exercise a new level of patience until it reveals itself.
But then I had another thought. The one where I think less about going to LA and more about leaving my life here. And then I think less about my life and more about my clients and my stomach turns. I get a pit so deep I push away the thought and tell myself I don't have to worry about it yet.
I'm starting to realize that my typical make-it-happen-no-matter-what drive has been stunted. My relationships with my clients has become of overgrown importance in my life. It is my #1 fault as a clinician (and one I could have predicted) because of how connected and identified I am with them. Sometimes I feel ashamed and weak about this aspect of myself professionally, but most times I take pride in having such strong therapeutic relationships. Now, I feel part silly and a lot sick about it. It has occurred to me that these relationships fill me up in a way akin to how family or a partnership fills me up. My current core group of clients are all people I have been seeing long term and I have a rhythm with them. There are ups and downs, misunderstands and reconnecting and above all...reliability, on both of our parts.
For those that don't know, the novel Catcher in the Rye was life changing for me. Following my first read of that book, I have wanted to be the catcher in the rye that Holden describes (for those of you unfamiliar- Holden describes a big field of rye where a bunch of kids are playing. The field is on a cliff and he is in charge of making sure none of the kids fall off. Of course, this description doesn't due Salinger's writing any justice and if you don't know what I'm talking about, you really should read this classic for yourself). Twenty one years later, I thought I had achieved something analogous to this dream with my social work career. But I feel so confused now that I am the one who is caught. I am not trying to further draw out this metaphor to my own situation, but "caught" is the only way I can think to describe how I feel in these relationships. I feel like I have been disarmed in my attempt to move forward in my life after working so hard with these clients. It's the ultimate form of getting in my own way, as the disarmament was self-induced. My new clincal puzzle is to find my way out.
I think I'm outta gas for now...
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
DADT
I'm really sad right now for one of my clients and can't get him out of my head. He's 15 and I've been treating him and his family for about a year and a half. Tommy (we'll call him) wears many hats- none as important as his dream to be in the Air Force. He has been preparing for this through his specialized high school and every move he makes he considers a mark either for or against his chances of getting in.
Tommy decided this week to deal, head on, with the reason he was initially referred to my agency. Tommy's ticket in was sexual trauma inflicted by another student, his age. Someone he believed was his friend. He reported the incident, pressed charges and began treatment soon after. He has yet to discuss in therapy what happened with this boy. Instead, three years following the incident, he chose to deal with it on his own. He reported to me this week that he's been reflecting a great deal on what actually happened. Tommy is going to be confirmed by his church this weekend and has therefore been doing a great deal of reflecting on a lot of things. This contemplation led to reaching out to this boy for, what he reports, was closure. He lied to Mom to get out of the house and he met up with him. Then he shared a great deal with me, including:
-his (former) curiosity about his sexuality
-his belief that he is partially responsible for what happened to him
-the guilt he has been carrying around about pressing charges due to the aforementioned belief
-the shame he holds regarding his lack of understanding about his curiosity
-his realization about how he's been coping with all of this including "drinking more than a kid my age should" and his tendency to overeat since he was victimized.
-his need to "convince" his mother that meeting up with him again was a means to get closure, not for further experimentation.
Tommy is tangled in the confusion that is common for victims of sexual abuse- "Was this my fault?" He believes that due to his genuine curiosity, that he is brave enough to own, he must have asked for it. It is my belief that Tommy was taken advantage of based on an expression of curiosity. The utter psychic chaos that results in the pairing of these two delicate matters is nothing less than a mind-fuck.
His need to protest any leftover sexual curiosity is naturally a red flag. It also makes perfect sense. Is there a more homophobic culture than the military? I don't envy the road he has ahead of him in terms of negotiating his dedication to serving in the Air Force and his (more than likely) blossoming inquisitiveness regarding same sex relations. I do, however, look forward to the opportunity to support his continued self-awareness and maturity.
Tommy decided this week to deal, head on, with the reason he was initially referred to my agency. Tommy's ticket in was sexual trauma inflicted by another student, his age. Someone he believed was his friend. He reported the incident, pressed charges and began treatment soon after. He has yet to discuss in therapy what happened with this boy. Instead, three years following the incident, he chose to deal with it on his own. He reported to me this week that he's been reflecting a great deal on what actually happened. Tommy is going to be confirmed by his church this weekend and has therefore been doing a great deal of reflecting on a lot of things. This contemplation led to reaching out to this boy for, what he reports, was closure. He lied to Mom to get out of the house and he met up with him. Then he shared a great deal with me, including:
-his (former) curiosity about his sexuality
-his belief that he is partially responsible for what happened to him
-the guilt he has been carrying around about pressing charges due to the aforementioned belief
-the shame he holds regarding his lack of understanding about his curiosity
-his realization about how he's been coping with all of this including "drinking more than a kid my age should" and his tendency to overeat since he was victimized.
-his need to "convince" his mother that meeting up with him again was a means to get closure, not for further experimentation.
Tommy is tangled in the confusion that is common for victims of sexual abuse- "Was this my fault?" He believes that due to his genuine curiosity, that he is brave enough to own, he must have asked for it. It is my belief that Tommy was taken advantage of based on an expression of curiosity. The utter psychic chaos that results in the pairing of these two delicate matters is nothing less than a mind-fuck.
His need to protest any leftover sexual curiosity is naturally a red flag. It also makes perfect sense. Is there a more homophobic culture than the military? I don't envy the road he has ahead of him in terms of negotiating his dedication to serving in the Air Force and his (more than likely) blossoming inquisitiveness regarding same sex relations. I do, however, look forward to the opportunity to support his continued self-awareness and maturity.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Shattered Image
Remember Nikki? Check mid February for her background.
The part I want to highlight is my admiration and adoration for her. As lovely as she presents in our sessions, I know she can be difficult. She plays "tough girl with an attitude" throughout most of her life. With me, one to one, she is a mush. She is vulnerable, curious, honest and has never hesitated to show me her huge heart. This typically comes in the package of discussing various people in her family. Aside from the brother who has become her militant guardian, every cousin, grandparent, niece, 1/2 sister, and "titi" is spoken of with great love and devotion. As alligned with her as I have always been, there's a bit of a heart-swelling that happens for me when she speaks about her family. It reminds me that she really is going to be okay.
With Nikki's presentation, comes certain responsibilities of the image. These parts of her image cost money- money that is in no way alloted for with her brother- mr. bare essentials. Often times Grandpa gives her money and I hear about her godfather picking up some slack too. Nikki wants sneakers, sweaters, hair doo-dads, a cell phone, and please don't forget the Proactiv! Y'no, girl stuff. She talks about her material needs incessantly and obsesses over where she is going to find the funds for her latest must-have. She mentioned being at "The Grampies"- and how Grandma always has money laying all over the place:
"She wouldn't even notice if it was gone...do you know what I could get with that $50? But then I realized...naaah, I couldn't do that...it's Grandma."
Nikki shared this inner dialogue with me more than once and I naturally supported her ability to resist such temptations and discussed what it means to have a conscience. But then, she couldn't resist.
She charges into my office showing off her new Sidekick (phone), claiming that she used "her own money" for it. I acknowledged this accomplishment. About 10 minutes into the session, she lost control and disclosed. With guilt on her face and an inability to look at me, she slowly spilled her guts. She took $100 from Grandma, used it to buy the phone and a few other items. She projected all of her guilt onto me, claiming I was "making her feel bad" as I sat silent, blank-faced and listened. I commented on how important these items must be to her that she made this choice and asked her to tap into how she felt about it now.
Rookie mistake.
She, naturally, defended against any feelings of regret and continued to justify her behavior. Nikki had some inner conflict about it, but evil was definitely winning this one. She began her new list of material necessities and I worked with her to strategize another way to deal with these needs. I knew she wasn't with me, but my head was so filled with disappointment, I felt clinically lost.
The following week she raised a discussion about selling boxed candy to raise some funds. I commented on her constructive plan to make her own money. She heard my subtext loud and clear- glaring at me momentarily and then quickly changing subjects. This week she came to session with new sneakers in hand. She plopped down, slipped them on and strutted as if in a fashion show. The subject of how she acquired the new sneakers came up and she dodged it. I made her aware that I was aware of that move. She was aware that I was aware, and managed to keep her face hidden until she moved topics.
I'm sick about this. I'm sick about her choices. I'm sick that I don't know how to guide her. I'm sick with judgment for this little girl. Her guilt is too thick to be able to explore her motivation or feelings about these choices. My judgment is too obvious to poke around in her guilt. She feels entitled to this money and these goods- and I don't have a clue as to how to tease that out.
That is all, for now.
The part I want to highlight is my admiration and adoration for her. As lovely as she presents in our sessions, I know she can be difficult. She plays "tough girl with an attitude" throughout most of her life. With me, one to one, she is a mush. She is vulnerable, curious, honest and has never hesitated to show me her huge heart. This typically comes in the package of discussing various people in her family. Aside from the brother who has become her militant guardian, every cousin, grandparent, niece, 1/2 sister, and "titi" is spoken of with great love and devotion. As alligned with her as I have always been, there's a bit of a heart-swelling that happens for me when she speaks about her family. It reminds me that she really is going to be okay.
With Nikki's presentation, comes certain responsibilities of the image. These parts of her image cost money- money that is in no way alloted for with her brother- mr. bare essentials. Often times Grandpa gives her money and I hear about her godfather picking up some slack too. Nikki wants sneakers, sweaters, hair doo-dads, a cell phone, and please don't forget the Proactiv! Y'no, girl stuff. She talks about her material needs incessantly and obsesses over where she is going to find the funds for her latest must-have. She mentioned being at "The Grampies"- and how Grandma always has money laying all over the place:
"She wouldn't even notice if it was gone...do you know what I could get with that $50? But then I realized...naaah, I couldn't do that...it's Grandma."
Nikki shared this inner dialogue with me more than once and I naturally supported her ability to resist such temptations and discussed what it means to have a conscience. But then, she couldn't resist.
She charges into my office showing off her new Sidekick (phone), claiming that she used "her own money" for it. I acknowledged this accomplishment. About 10 minutes into the session, she lost control and disclosed. With guilt on her face and an inability to look at me, she slowly spilled her guts. She took $100 from Grandma, used it to buy the phone and a few other items. She projected all of her guilt onto me, claiming I was "making her feel bad" as I sat silent, blank-faced and listened. I commented on how important these items must be to her that she made this choice and asked her to tap into how she felt about it now.
Rookie mistake.
She, naturally, defended against any feelings of regret and continued to justify her behavior. Nikki had some inner conflict about it, but evil was definitely winning this one. She began her new list of material necessities and I worked with her to strategize another way to deal with these needs. I knew she wasn't with me, but my head was so filled with disappointment, I felt clinically lost.
The following week she raised a discussion about selling boxed candy to raise some funds. I commented on her constructive plan to make her own money. She heard my subtext loud and clear- glaring at me momentarily and then quickly changing subjects. This week she came to session with new sneakers in hand. She plopped down, slipped them on and strutted as if in a fashion show. The subject of how she acquired the new sneakers came up and she dodged it. I made her aware that I was aware of that move. She was aware that I was aware, and managed to keep her face hidden until she moved topics.
I'm sick about this. I'm sick about her choices. I'm sick that I don't know how to guide her. I'm sick with judgment for this little girl. Her guilt is too thick to be able to explore her motivation or feelings about these choices. My judgment is too obvious to poke around in her guilt. She feels entitled to this money and these goods- and I don't have a clue as to how to tease that out.
That is all, for now.
Monday, May 3, 2010
A Weird One.
I see this precocious and delicious 5 year old - she's been in treatment for about a year. I've watched her grow and change in meaningful yet unexplainable ways. We have a great relationship and her treatment has always been relatively smooth. The reason I have to write about her is because of the one aspect of our sessions that is unique to us.
Snacks.
Mom brings her to her appointment straight after school and picks up a snack for her on the way. Her snack choices rarely have a repeat and they vary on the nutrition spectrum from one extreme to the other. Examples? Yogurt covered pretzles, fruit flavored mentos, sour punch straws, a green apple, and today- Combos (the pretzel/cheese ones, if you must know). Most of these items, are not snacks I would choose for myself. But here goes the weird part: whatever she is eating, I instantly crave. There is something about the way this child manipulates her food, the sound of it in her mouth, or the project she creates in the process of consuming it that makes the item a must-have for me. And I don't mean in the moment that I am witnessing the consumption, I mean the experience gets in me and stays there so the next time I pass those stupid sour straws and feel absolutely compelled to buy them and eat them...all week!
Input anyone?
Ideas?
That's all for now. I have a bag of Combos to get to...
Snacks.
Mom brings her to her appointment straight after school and picks up a snack for her on the way. Her snack choices rarely have a repeat and they vary on the nutrition spectrum from one extreme to the other. Examples? Yogurt covered pretzles, fruit flavored mentos, sour punch straws, a green apple, and today- Combos (the pretzel/cheese ones, if you must know). Most of these items, are not snacks I would choose for myself. But here goes the weird part: whatever she is eating, I instantly crave. There is something about the way this child manipulates her food, the sound of it in her mouth, or the project she creates in the process of consuming it that makes the item a must-have for me. And I don't mean in the moment that I am witnessing the consumption, I mean the experience gets in me and stays there so the next time I pass those stupid sour straws and feel absolutely compelled to buy them and eat them...all week!
Input anyone?
Ideas?
That's all for now. I have a bag of Combos to get to...
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Forreal or Forfake?
One of the top reasons I love my work is the search for authenticity. I eagerly await the 45-minutes of truth hunting that I get to do with my clients. I may not find it, or they may not want to say it...but I love the work of sniffing it out. When helping another find themselves, and witnessing their experience of truth and freedom in that place is exciting, rewarding and truly lights my fire. I think part of this passion comes from the feeling that I walked around as a shell of myself for the 1st 20 or so years of my life (that might be beside the point, we'll see).
The reason I bring all of this up is due to a comment made by my one and only male client. A 36-year-old man, recently divorced and sorting out his custodial situation with his 2 biological children and 1 stepchild. He is uneducated, but highly intelligent and works hard in therapy. I have been seeing him for over a year and we have established a comfortable and friendly therapeutic relationship. He tests my ability to hold my boundaries as he asks many personal questions, but does so with awareness and respect. The repeating theme with this client is his resistance to creating a social life for himself due to his lack of faith in others and low self-esteem. Upon my emphasis that our therapeutic relationship provides a model for the potential of other relationships, he flatly refuses the concept. He maintains that our successful relationship is based solely on the fact that I am paid to do so. Of course I understand where he is coming from, which is why I can continue to engage in this topic and not take it personally.
Well, at least I wasn't taking it personally.
We approached the topic again of his sense of self-worth in terms of socializing. We make our way around to his ease in socializing with me. And then he dumps it on me:
"But this is fake."
"This is fake?"
"Well yeah, obviously"
Ouch. It stung my whole being. I mean, yes, I still get it- but I think calling me a big fat stingy kike would've felt better. Fake is my dirty word. Fake is my #1 aversion (well, there's bugs but that's something completely different). Fake is often my enemy. And now I'm letting his version of fake get tangled in my concept of being inauthentic and so the twists and turns of the puzzling therapeutic relationship goes. Now I work to divide up his stuff from my stuff and respond in a clinical, therapeutic and (in a perfect world), helpful way.
Let's hope the stars align.
Okay, that's it for now.
The reason I bring all of this up is due to a comment made by my one and only male client. A 36-year-old man, recently divorced and sorting out his custodial situation with his 2 biological children and 1 stepchild. He is uneducated, but highly intelligent and works hard in therapy. I have been seeing him for over a year and we have established a comfortable and friendly therapeutic relationship. He tests my ability to hold my boundaries as he asks many personal questions, but does so with awareness and respect. The repeating theme with this client is his resistance to creating a social life for himself due to his lack of faith in others and low self-esteem. Upon my emphasis that our therapeutic relationship provides a model for the potential of other relationships, he flatly refuses the concept. He maintains that our successful relationship is based solely on the fact that I am paid to do so. Of course I understand where he is coming from, which is why I can continue to engage in this topic and not take it personally.
Well, at least I wasn't taking it personally.
We approached the topic again of his sense of self-worth in terms of socializing. We make our way around to his ease in socializing with me. And then he dumps it on me:
"But this is fake."
"This is fake?"
"Well yeah, obviously"
Ouch. It stung my whole being. I mean, yes, I still get it- but I think calling me a big fat stingy kike would've felt better. Fake is my dirty word. Fake is my #1 aversion (well, there's bugs but that's something completely different). Fake is often my enemy. And now I'm letting his version of fake get tangled in my concept of being inauthentic and so the twists and turns of the puzzling therapeutic relationship goes. Now I work to divide up his stuff from my stuff and respond in a clinical, therapeutic and (in a perfect world), helpful way.
Let's hope the stars align.
Okay, that's it for now.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Big Person
Her final session couldn't have been scripted more beautifully, therefore, I figured it should be written. She showed up in her usual mixed up garb. This day it included a dressy, wide brimmed, spring hat - garnished with plenty of flowers, an army green bomber jacket and pink velour track suit pants. We took the hike up the stairs (the ones she chooses every session over the elevator, while insisting she "hates" these stairs) for the last time and headed to the office. She immediately honed in on the pink frosted cupcake and card I had waiting for her: "You really put stickers in here for me?" (spoken in a tone attempting to sound jaded). She requested to paint (something we did often in her sessions) and we went into our routine, "I det da wata and you det da TIG paypa!" And as she stated, she filled cups with water and I set up the big sheets of paper to paint on. She commanded specific colors, naming where they should go and I followed her lead. She then decided to paint a picture of the two of us. Yes, it always feels good when a client wants to do this, but it was particulary intruguing in this case since Natalie has never painted anything deliberate. She typically likes to just go through the motions of scribbling paint to paper and sharing the activity with another. Natalie started with an overly wet brush with paint on it and named the sprinkles that dripped on the paper "raindrops". She then drew a figure that took up most of the page. She was emphatic with her movement up and down: "Dis is you. Cuz you awe a big big puwsun wid a big big head and a big big eyes and a big big nose". She then painted a smaller figure next to the big figure's head: "Dis is me, cuz I'm a diddle puwson." At the last minute she drew one more figure at the bottom, naming it her uncle. She finished in time before the alarm went off...
Then it sounded. Marking the end of our final session.
We both stared at each other. Neither wanting to make a move.
Neither wanted to say goodbye.
But one of us was the big person.
That put me in charge of containing her anger as she began hitting herself, dumping toys and throwing sand. Additionally, I was working to contain myself at the same time as I had the urge to join her (wouldn't it be great if we could both be "bad"?). It took surprisingly little effort to help her to deescalate.
We gathered up her things, took the elevator down and had a great big goodbye hug. Hopefully, she is left with a corrective experience. I am left with a broken heart.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
A Different Side of Difficult.
I have been seeing a married couple for approximately a year. Sara and Joseph are smart, self-reflective, artistic, honest and a healthy split of emotional and rational. They lean more towards the latter and I work to dig into the former. They are raising 3 teenage girls- one of their own and 2 neices that they took full custody of early in the girls' lives. They have both shown time and again what solid parenting they bring to the table. I have heard when they work as a team and when they lean on each other to take the lead. The complexities of raising these girls takes a toll on their relationship and is, in part, the reason they sought therapy.
We've had a solid therapeutic relationship- everyone in the room works hard in each session. I feel I am able to understand and reflect each of their positions in a way that they (hopefully) hear each other with more clarity. Obviously, part of the complication of seeing a couple is staying unbiased to either side. With this couple, I have had little trouble remaining in that position. In the past year, things have become increasingly more difficult with one of the girls (Phoebe). She is angry about being abandoned by her parents, but as a 14yo is not in touch with that fact. That kind of sadness and anger shows up in outward defiance, belligerence and blatant disrespect to the very people that have offered her the privileged life she has today.
Sara seems to have a better understanding of where Phoebe's anger comes from and how to manage her behavior. Joseph takes it as a personal affront and lashes out at her, escalating the power struggle to an uncontrollable level. I have only recently heard the shocking report that Joseph is guilty of hitting her. Twice. I probably don't have to state how troubling this is to me. I believe in these clients and they are the ones I am treating. I hear Joseph's frustrations with Phoebe and his own history of abuse, which allows me to feel empathy for him and comprehend the reason for his actions. But first and foremost, I am a social worker and a child advocate. I have not heard remorse on his part and he has been unable to "promise" it wouldn't happen again. I have been sitting with how to address his actions for the past few weeks. There have been talks about seeking individual treatment, and threats from Sara about asking him to leave the home if it were to happen again.
It came to a head in our last session. He addressed the fact that Sara's trust for him with Phoebe has diminished. He expressed hurt and anger over this. Sara did not back down and maintained that "the family could not afford to have this happen again". His defense slid into a justification of his actions and a request for her to acknowledge all the times he had not hit her. My heart rate kicked up and I knew it was time. The moment that I dread in this profession. I had to risk a rupture in our relationship. I had to speak up against my client in an attempt to educate him, but in a moment that he was already very hurt and angry and he would most likely not hear the message immediately. I told Joseph that not being hit is a basic right for children and that there is no reward for not hitting. I reminded him how traumatic it is to be hit as a child (as he directly knows) and that the dynamic between him and Phoebe is dangerous for both of them.
Several minutes passed and he didn't say anything.
He appeared incredibly injured.
I offered the opportunity to express any feelings he had towards what I had said.
He didn't do that.
With his toxic, seething anger still in full force - he turned on himself.
It killed me to see the shift into self-deprecation, but I was pretty sure what I had said made a direct hit.
Maybe not a move forward, but movement nonetheless.
Now we let the session marinade.
And I need a drink.
We've had a solid therapeutic relationship- everyone in the room works hard in each session. I feel I am able to understand and reflect each of their positions in a way that they (hopefully) hear each other with more clarity. Obviously, part of the complication of seeing a couple is staying unbiased to either side. With this couple, I have had little trouble remaining in that position. In the past year, things have become increasingly more difficult with one of the girls (Phoebe). She is angry about being abandoned by her parents, but as a 14yo is not in touch with that fact. That kind of sadness and anger shows up in outward defiance, belligerence and blatant disrespect to the very people that have offered her the privileged life she has today.
Sara seems to have a better understanding of where Phoebe's anger comes from and how to manage her behavior. Joseph takes it as a personal affront and lashes out at her, escalating the power struggle to an uncontrollable level. I have only recently heard the shocking report that Joseph is guilty of hitting her. Twice. I probably don't have to state how troubling this is to me. I believe in these clients and they are the ones I am treating. I hear Joseph's frustrations with Phoebe and his own history of abuse, which allows me to feel empathy for him and comprehend the reason for his actions. But first and foremost, I am a social worker and a child advocate. I have not heard remorse on his part and he has been unable to "promise" it wouldn't happen again. I have been sitting with how to address his actions for the past few weeks. There have been talks about seeking individual treatment, and threats from Sara about asking him to leave the home if it were to happen again.
It came to a head in our last session. He addressed the fact that Sara's trust for him with Phoebe has diminished. He expressed hurt and anger over this. Sara did not back down and maintained that "the family could not afford to have this happen again". His defense slid into a justification of his actions and a request for her to acknowledge all the times he had not hit her. My heart rate kicked up and I knew it was time. The moment that I dread in this profession. I had to risk a rupture in our relationship. I had to speak up against my client in an attempt to educate him, but in a moment that he was already very hurt and angry and he would most likely not hear the message immediately. I told Joseph that not being hit is a basic right for children and that there is no reward for not hitting. I reminded him how traumatic it is to be hit as a child (as he directly knows) and that the dynamic between him and Phoebe is dangerous for both of them.
Several minutes passed and he didn't say anything.
He appeared incredibly injured.
I offered the opportunity to express any feelings he had towards what I had said.
He didn't do that.
With his toxic, seething anger still in full force - he turned on himself.
It killed me to see the shift into self-deprecation, but I was pretty sure what I had said made a direct hit.
Maybe not a move forward, but movement nonetheless.
Now we let the session marinade.
And I need a drink.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
sex.sex.sex.
"Y'no it's normal for kids my age to be doing it"
"I told him I was a virgin and he asked me if I at least go down low"
"well, obviously he would wear a condom..."
"Is anal sex worse than regular sex?"
"I'm going to an all girls school next year, maybe this is the last chance I'll get in middle school"
"We went to the movies and he asked me to jerk him. I was like NO WAY"
"No, it's different if you have sex with your boyfriend..."
"If I've had oral sex, I'm not a virgin?!"
"Yeah, she talked to me about sex. She told me 'don't do anything stupid'."
"He said he wanted to teach me- not just anyone. We been knowin each other mad long."
"You mean, like put the condom on the banana type thing? No, they don't do that in Catholic school."
Just a few snipets of various sessions today.
Spring must be near...
"I told him I was a virgin and he asked me if I at least go down low"
"well, obviously he would wear a condom..."
"Is anal sex worse than regular sex?"
"I'm going to an all girls school next year, maybe this is the last chance I'll get in middle school"
"We went to the movies and he asked me to jerk him. I was like NO WAY"
"No, it's different if you have sex with your boyfriend..."
"If I've had oral sex, I'm not a virgin?!"
"Yeah, she talked to me about sex. She told me 'don't do anything stupid'."
"He said he wanted to teach me- not just anyone. We been knowin each other mad long."
"You mean, like put the condom on the banana type thing? No, they don't do that in Catholic school."
Just a few snipets of various sessions today.
Spring must be near...
Monday, February 22, 2010
Balancing the blessing
She listens. She laughs. She provides feedback and levity. She is not a client- she is my friend. As a fellow social worker she understands my work in a way that others friends do not. As a similar sensitive soul, our work can be the very thing that creates static between us.
Caretaking.
It's what good friends do for each other. It's what I like to provide for others and have endless gratitude when my friends do so for me. There comes a time when you put yourself first -your caretaking has to be about yourself. It's a lesson for everyone, but outwardly defined in the education of a social worker. It's an important message that gets played repeatedly as we are trained to take care of others as our full time job: self-care. So, what happens if two friends are in an emotional place where they have to put themselves first?
It gets sticky, and things fall apart.
What happens if these two have the emotional knowledge and stability to see what's bigger than the immediate situation that has becomes sticky?
Things get put back together.
My gratitude for this relationship runs deep- in times of conflict or the best of times. It seems that it is the moments of imbalance that stand out and make me appreciate her all over again.
Caretaking.
It's what good friends do for each other. It's what I like to provide for others and have endless gratitude when my friends do so for me. There comes a time when you put yourself first -your caretaking has to be about yourself. It's a lesson for everyone, but outwardly defined in the education of a social worker. It's an important message that gets played repeatedly as we are trained to take care of others as our full time job: self-care. So, what happens if two friends are in an emotional place where they have to put themselves first?
It gets sticky, and things fall apart.
What happens if these two have the emotional knowledge and stability to see what's bigger than the immediate situation that has becomes sticky?
Things get put back together.
My gratitude for this relationship runs deep- in times of conflict or the best of times. It seems that it is the moments of imbalance that stand out and make me appreciate her all over again.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Exhaling (NOT inhaling)
There is an amazing 13yo girl that I have been seeing and has been bringing joy to my life since I met her in October of '08. Smart, funny, animated, emotional, sensitive, tough, sassy and a sense of herself that is so solid, it defies logic. Our bond was instantaneous- (possibly from another life?) and her session can sometimes feel like "the girls" hanging out. I have to catch myself from slipping from therapist to friend...it's that natural. You should know some things about Nikki (we'll call her)- she watched her mother die from alcohol related illness at age 9 and was left in her father's custody. About 3 years later, her father had a psychotic break and one night lost his sense of boundaries, becoming physically inappropriate with her. The morning following this incident, Nikki told her camp director, authorities were notified and she was removed from the home. Just like that.
She has landed in the full time care of her 30-something, recovering addict, completely narcissistic half brother. Ill-equipped to parent a teen, especially a teen with this much trauma in her past- their relationship is volatile, to say the least. Nikki vents her frustrations about her living situation on a regular basis. She looks for a way out, she brainstorms solutions, she has even considered foster care for herself. She is starting to accept that this is how her life will be until it isn't anymore.
Nikki is socially pretty savvy. Her social status is very important, and if it means faking her friendship with the untrustworthy popular girl, she'll do it. The difference with Nikki and your typical 13 yo, is that she is aware of such choices. She discusses her social life in great detail on a regular basis. I have been comforted by her appropriate (or what I would deem appropriate) interests as a girl in middle school. She loves fashion and hair and music and dancing....the biggest snag Nikki has shown in her behavior is fighting. As I understand it, as a Latina, this is par for the course. In our last session: (dum-da-dum-dum)...smoking.
No, not cigarettes.
Weed.
She has several friends that do it and she verbalized her interest. Shit.Shit.Shit.
I explored what piqued her interest, who has it, what level of interest we were talking about. We discussed safety and effects and side effects. I steered so clear of that judgmental voice in order to keep this important opening we have between us- I started to panic at the end of the session. ("wait, did i forget to mention the part about this really isn't a good idea? did i become so permissive that i have encouraged this behavior?") I threw in a really clumsy reminder about my not supporting this choice and wanting to supply info to her. "Yeah, yeah...I know", I get in return.
This session has been taking up a lot of space in my brain and my heart. As a girl with addiction in her family, did I present as too lax? Did I supply the right info? Should I have provided a heavier hand to divert this behavior? My true aim was to continue to provide that nonjudgmental, empathic place where our relationship has been firmly grounded. That way, if she chooses to engage...we can continue dialoguing about it. Man, I hope that's what I did....
K. That's it for now.
She has landed in the full time care of her 30-something, recovering addict, completely narcissistic half brother. Ill-equipped to parent a teen, especially a teen with this much trauma in her past- their relationship is volatile, to say the least. Nikki vents her frustrations about her living situation on a regular basis. She looks for a way out, she brainstorms solutions, she has even considered foster care for herself. She is starting to accept that this is how her life will be until it isn't anymore.
Nikki is socially pretty savvy. Her social status is very important, and if it means faking her friendship with the untrustworthy popular girl, she'll do it. The difference with Nikki and your typical 13 yo, is that she is aware of such choices. She discusses her social life in great detail on a regular basis. I have been comforted by her appropriate (or what I would deem appropriate) interests as a girl in middle school. She loves fashion and hair and music and dancing....the biggest snag Nikki has shown in her behavior is fighting. As I understand it, as a Latina, this is par for the course. In our last session: (dum-da-dum-dum)...smoking.
No, not cigarettes.
Weed.
She has several friends that do it and she verbalized her interest. Shit.Shit.Shit.
I explored what piqued her interest, who has it, what level of interest we were talking about. We discussed safety and effects and side effects. I steered so clear of that judgmental voice in order to keep this important opening we have between us- I started to panic at the end of the session. ("wait, did i forget to mention the part about this really isn't a good idea? did i become so permissive that i have encouraged this behavior?") I threw in a really clumsy reminder about my not supporting this choice and wanting to supply info to her. "Yeah, yeah...I know", I get in return.
This session has been taking up a lot of space in my brain and my heart. As a girl with addiction in her family, did I present as too lax? Did I supply the right info? Should I have provided a heavier hand to divert this behavior? My true aim was to continue to provide that nonjudgmental, empathic place where our relationship has been firmly grounded. That way, if she chooses to engage...we can continue dialoguing about it. Man, I hope that's what I did....
K. That's it for now.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Freedom
A 25 year old client I see on Saturdays is dealing with a number of issues- today it was about her kids. On the one hand they are the most important humans on earth, on the other- they are the bain of her existence. They are the symbol of her entrapment in this life. She told me she is a "doer" and she needs to be spontaneous and adventursome and her young children hold her back from this. She didn't wait, like the rest of her friends. She started her family early and there is no changing that now. There is only making the best of her not-so-planned-life, which gives her the feeling of being in shackles. Because of her genuine love for her kids, this sort of honesty does not come easy for her. Today she was flowing with resentment, confusion and sadness.
I looked into her tearful eyes as she spoke about the "order" in which things have happened for her and the irony was almost too much to bear. I sat there, as a 36 yo woman who has lived a free life- let the wind determine my direction for years and now feeling trapped by those decisions. Same issue, opposite direction. I have traveled the world, got an education, moved across the country and tried out several careers. I didn't take the time to settle down and start a family, like the rest of my friends. My imprisonment is the one associated with biology and while my client has to wait 14 years (as she has calculated) before she is "free", I wonder if my window of opportunity will be closed by the time I get there.
I think that's it. For now.
I looked into her tearful eyes as she spoke about the "order" in which things have happened for her and the irony was almost too much to bear. I sat there, as a 36 yo woman who has lived a free life- let the wind determine my direction for years and now feeling trapped by those decisions. Same issue, opposite direction. I have traveled the world, got an education, moved across the country and tried out several careers. I didn't take the time to settle down and start a family, like the rest of my friends. My imprisonment is the one associated with biology and while my client has to wait 14 years (as she has calculated) before she is "free", I wonder if my window of opportunity will be closed by the time I get there.
I think that's it. For now.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Occupational hazard
She is 4. She has a brand new baby brother. He was named after his father, and the man who sexually abused her. She has been questioned by more officials in her 4 years on this earth than most of us will our entire life. Oh, and she lives in a shelter. Guess what? She's pissed.
Lucy (we'll call her) is still new to treatment. Her mother has trouble getting her to the agency on time and today was the first I've seen her in about a month. Lucy is pretty much out of control. She curses wildly ("fuck that shit"), is hypersexual ("let me see if that doll has a penis"), and incredibly defiant ("I'm not cleanin that up!"). She is no easy task. Although she's angry and verbally aggressive, I've always taken solace in the fact that she doesn't show any physical aggression towards me. So much for that.
Today Lucy had so much aggression, she lost the little bit of impulse control she normally shows around me. In a session, I am typically on the floor with them or in someway physically on their level. She looked me in the eye and pulled down hard on the bangs hanging in my face. I became firm with her about touching. She moved on. When it was time to clean up, Lucy couldn't handle what must have felt like rejection and knocked me on the forehead with a spoon. Strike two. Leaving the office, I attempted to prevent her from using the water cooler (as this usually means an immediate dumping of water on the floor). Remaining in a standing position, as I learned that she was going for the face today, I got a two handed slug in the stomach. Amazing, the strength on an angry little girl.
Riding the elevator down with her was a chore and I couldn't have passed her off quicker to Mom. I hadn't a clinical thought in my head. Just anger. I guess that's what she needed. For someone to hold it for her as she overflowed.
Who signed me up for this again?
That's it for now.
Lucy (we'll call her) is still new to treatment. Her mother has trouble getting her to the agency on time and today was the first I've seen her in about a month. Lucy is pretty much out of control. She curses wildly ("fuck that shit"), is hypersexual ("let me see if that doll has a penis"), and incredibly defiant ("I'm not cleanin that up!"). She is no easy task. Although she's angry and verbally aggressive, I've always taken solace in the fact that she doesn't show any physical aggression towards me. So much for that.
Today Lucy had so much aggression, she lost the little bit of impulse control she normally shows around me. In a session, I am typically on the floor with them or in someway physically on their level. She looked me in the eye and pulled down hard on the bangs hanging in my face. I became firm with her about touching. She moved on. When it was time to clean up, Lucy couldn't handle what must have felt like rejection and knocked me on the forehead with a spoon. Strike two. Leaving the office, I attempted to prevent her from using the water cooler (as this usually means an immediate dumping of water on the floor). Remaining in a standing position, as I learned that she was going for the face today, I got a two handed slug in the stomach. Amazing, the strength on an angry little girl.
Riding the elevator down with her was a chore and I couldn't have passed her off quicker to Mom. I hadn't a clinical thought in my head. Just anger. I guess that's what she needed. For someone to hold it for her as she overflowed.
Who signed me up for this again?
That's it for now.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A pat on the back.
I have been seeing a 4yo girl that I am incredibly attached to. We'll call her Natalie. Her mother's boyfriend (who she thought was her father) molested her. There was DNA evidence. Now he's serving time and she is taking time to heal. I have the pleasure of seeing this highly expressive, incredibly needy, terribly rebellious and ultimately adorable child 2x/week. I look forward to these sessions almost like they are a playdate. When her appointment is cancelled- I feel a loss.
There have been quite a number of cancellations, which have mainly been due to family politics. This client is part of a culture that prides itself on thier independence from the dominant culture, resisting assimilation, essentially - remaining off the grid. The idea of bringing the youngest of the family to speak to an outsider about personal situations is abhorrent to them. "They" consists of mother, grandmother and the big guy; grandfather. Her uncle is currently the legal guardian and the one who is pushing for Natalie to remain in regular treatment, register her in school - in essence, taking the huge (unacceptable) leap into mainstream America. They fight him every step of the way and the uncle keeps me regularly posted on his progress with them. Some days he wins (she shows) and other days he is defeated (he cancels). It can feel like we are TEAM NATALIE- working together for her safety, security and healing. I should mention that I have met with each of these family members (aside from grandpa) who talk a good game about being on board, who have only Natalie's best interest at heart, and who ultimately become frightened of the unknown and work to pull her out.
Last week, the uncle was meeting with the Dept of Education to discuss her IEP (Individualized Education Plan). This means that the DOE has evaluated for and acknowledged Natalie's special needs. I was notified about the meeting and arranged my schedule so that I could be present. The uncle was pleased that I was attending and repeatedly expressed his gratitude (offering to bring coffee, breakfast, etc...). The meeting started on time and was quick and to the point. I was happy to be there to show support. It wasn't until Natalie's next session that I understood the impact of this one small gesture.
The following day, as I opened the door to our waiting room, Natalie's grandparents were there with her. They shook my hand, they gave me updates, they inquired about her treatment. Natalie and I had our session and upon returning the uncle was there with the grandparents. We all exchanged pleasantries once again, and this time the grandparents thanked me for my presence at the meeting. Moments after returning to my office I received an email from the uncle. It had the tone of an excited little boy. He expressed the thrill of his father speaking with me, engaging, accepting. He told me that my attendance at the school meeting so early in the morning and in the snow meant an awful lot to the family.
I did it.
I earned their trust.
And apparently I did so by simply doing the part of my job I love, the genuine part. I'm not sure who was happier at that moment.
(big ole exhale)
That's it for now.
There have been quite a number of cancellations, which have mainly been due to family politics. This client is part of a culture that prides itself on thier independence from the dominant culture, resisting assimilation, essentially - remaining off the grid. The idea of bringing the youngest of the family to speak to an outsider about personal situations is abhorrent to them. "They" consists of mother, grandmother and the big guy; grandfather. Her uncle is currently the legal guardian and the one who is pushing for Natalie to remain in regular treatment, register her in school - in essence, taking the huge (unacceptable) leap into mainstream America. They fight him every step of the way and the uncle keeps me regularly posted on his progress with them. Some days he wins (she shows) and other days he is defeated (he cancels). It can feel like we are TEAM NATALIE- working together for her safety, security and healing. I should mention that I have met with each of these family members (aside from grandpa) who talk a good game about being on board, who have only Natalie's best interest at heart, and who ultimately become frightened of the unknown and work to pull her out.
Last week, the uncle was meeting with the Dept of Education to discuss her IEP (Individualized Education Plan). This means that the DOE has evaluated for and acknowledged Natalie's special needs. I was notified about the meeting and arranged my schedule so that I could be present. The uncle was pleased that I was attending and repeatedly expressed his gratitude (offering to bring coffee, breakfast, etc...). The meeting started on time and was quick and to the point. I was happy to be there to show support. It wasn't until Natalie's next session that I understood the impact of this one small gesture.
The following day, as I opened the door to our waiting room, Natalie's grandparents were there with her. They shook my hand, they gave me updates, they inquired about her treatment. Natalie and I had our session and upon returning the uncle was there with the grandparents. We all exchanged pleasantries once again, and this time the grandparents thanked me for my presence at the meeting. Moments after returning to my office I received an email from the uncle. It had the tone of an excited little boy. He expressed the thrill of his father speaking with me, engaging, accepting. He told me that my attendance at the school meeting so early in the morning and in the snow meant an awful lot to the family.
I did it.
I earned their trust.
And apparently I did so by simply doing the part of my job I love, the genuine part. I'm not sure who was happier at that moment.
(big ole exhale)
That's it for now.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Battle Within
I have a client that I have been seeing since I was an intern. He was 4 when I met him, and he is 7 now. Let's call him Nathan. Nathan's father beat his mother to a pulp a few times. He was an infant caught in the middle of it and therefore ended up in my agency. I learned quickly in this field that these issues don't happen in a vacuum. They are an outcome of many other issues factoring into their environment landing them where they are when they arrive in my office. In Nathan's case, there is not only a maniacal father- but a mother who is suffering from PTSD and the two are fighting for custody. This has been going on longer in his life than it hasn't.
I have seen Nathan grow and change in amazing ways. When I met him, he wouldn't speak to me or even make eye contact with me. Now he races me to my office and takes the liberty of flipping the "In Session- Do Not Disturb" sign himself. On his ever-changing trajectory, one thing never alters: army toys. Different battles, changing bad guys, varying weapons, adjusted storylines, but always, always within the same framework...little green and tan army men. I have a confession: I hate playing with army toys. Even more, I feel so confused and awkward with the rules and random words he uses I have begun dreading his session.
"This guy goes here. No not there, that's water. Now shoot him. No, you're shooting the wrong direction. You missed him. Wait, I wasn't ready. You can't do that, he's made of electricity. Oh, your general just got killed- you didn't even protect him. You can have this ship. No, not that one. Just send him to medical and put him back in. Do you need reANDforcements? Are they in position? Keep shooting!!!"
Nathan is bright, talented, creative, funny and incredibly guarded. He remains so cautious of letting anyone in emotionally he has to repeatedly play out his defenses with weekly battles that take over my office. I just wish Nathan would directly share things with me. Isn't it time, yet? How can I get him to put down at least some of these weapons and allow me to see him? I get it-he is showing me a piece of his very confusing world where he is always trying to "figure out" what is next, who and how to please. Things feel awkward and constantly stressful in his life and he needs to play that out. This is his one opportunity where he is never wrong and doesn't need to work to impress. I get it. It's hard- and I know a teeny piece of how hard by the agonizing 45 minutes I spend with him each week.
That's it for now.
I have seen Nathan grow and change in amazing ways. When I met him, he wouldn't speak to me or even make eye contact with me. Now he races me to my office and takes the liberty of flipping the "In Session- Do Not Disturb" sign himself. On his ever-changing trajectory, one thing never alters: army toys. Different battles, changing bad guys, varying weapons, adjusted storylines, but always, always within the same framework...little green and tan army men. I have a confession: I hate playing with army toys. Even more, I feel so confused and awkward with the rules and random words he uses I have begun dreading his session.
"This guy goes here. No not there, that's water. Now shoot him. No, you're shooting the wrong direction. You missed him. Wait, I wasn't ready. You can't do that, he's made of electricity. Oh, your general just got killed- you didn't even protect him. You can have this ship. No, not that one. Just send him to medical and put him back in. Do you need reANDforcements? Are they in position? Keep shooting!!!"
Nathan is bright, talented, creative, funny and incredibly guarded. He remains so cautious of letting anyone in emotionally he has to repeatedly play out his defenses with weekly battles that take over my office. I just wish Nathan would directly share things with me. Isn't it time, yet? How can I get him to put down at least some of these weapons and allow me to see him? I get it-he is showing me a piece of his very confusing world where he is always trying to "figure out" what is next, who and how to please. Things feel awkward and constantly stressful in his life and he needs to play that out. This is his one opportunity where he is never wrong and doesn't need to work to impress. I get it. It's hard- and I know a teeny piece of how hard by the agonizing 45 minutes I spend with him each week.
That's it for now.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Let's start at the very beginning...
I earned my master's degree in social work in May of 2008. Now I work as a therapist. My full time job consists of treating children (and some parents) who are suffering the effects of trauma. Most of them are victims of abuse, some have witnessed it in their homes- all of them are survivors and they are a daily reminder of the strength of the human spirit. I work part-time at a women's health clinic that also provides counseling. These clients are a wide spectrum of adults who have come in voluntarily to sort out troubling issues, learn more about themselves and are seeking personal growth.
I often hear from friends and family (outside of the profession): "I don't know how you do it". The thing is, this is where life has taken me because it is what I am meant to be doing. This field is a perfect fit. This work feels more natural to me than almost anything else in the world (okay, the stage is up there too- an entirely different blog). I realize I am providing an important service, but do these clients know what they do for me? My clients hand me their sadness, shame, anger, joys, triumphs, failures....they allow themselves vulnerability in my presence. It is a gift I do not take lightly...and with that comes the motivation for my blogging.
Suffice it to say, this work is tough. A true labor of love, with the potential to deliver great emotional cost if not kept in check. Supervision is one thing, but the need to dispel the weight that I take on in this work is building. I decided to attempt to utilize this medium to discuss what comes up for me during this journey. I'm leaving the format open and without structure...who knows where it will go. One of my most important lessons to date: it's all impermanent.
If you have received this link, it means I would be honored it if you'd take the journey with me- feedback/general thoughts welcomed and encouraged! (If it's not your thing, of course I understand that too.)
That's it for now.
-SR
I often hear from friends and family (outside of the profession): "I don't know how you do it". The thing is, this is where life has taken me because it is what I am meant to be doing. This field is a perfect fit. This work feels more natural to me than almost anything else in the world (okay, the stage is up there too- an entirely different blog). I realize I am providing an important service, but do these clients know what they do for me? My clients hand me their sadness, shame, anger, joys, triumphs, failures....they allow themselves vulnerability in my presence. It is a gift I do not take lightly...and with that comes the motivation for my blogging.
Suffice it to say, this work is tough. A true labor of love, with the potential to deliver great emotional cost if not kept in check. Supervision is one thing, but the need to dispel the weight that I take on in this work is building. I decided to attempt to utilize this medium to discuss what comes up for me during this journey. I'm leaving the format open and without structure...who knows where it will go. One of my most important lessons to date: it's all impermanent.
If you have received this link, it means I would be honored it if you'd take the journey with me- feedback/general thoughts welcomed and encouraged! (If it's not your thing, of course I understand that too.)
That's it for now.
-SR
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