Woah Nelly. Am I right in saying that there may be nothing worse than being hated by a seven year old? It may actually be one of the most heartbreaking feelings in the world.
So I started my new job! Pyjama Smoker is now exploring strange new worlds, new civilizations. I am going where few self-proclaimed "bad with children" thirty-some-odds have gone. I am taking care of children.
I've been on the job for a few weeks now. May I first say - of course I will keep details of the job anonymous, as to protect the identity and privacy of the kids who I work with. That being said, I must start with the fact that the kids I'm working with are totally rad. They have loving, amazing parents, and as such, they are loving, amazing children.
I am so very new at this whole children thing. I am in fact, so new, that I have no fucking clue what I am doing. It's okay - their mother is aware of this. Luckily, I am a fairly rational, responsible, empathetic person, so I can't do too much damage. Famous last words.
Today, one of the children got upset with me. I was unable to give her what she wanted. As it turns out, what she was asking for wasn't what she really wanted, it's just that she wasn't able to identify what the real emotional need was. Which makes total sense to me. It doesn't make life any easier, however.
The thing I've noticed about working with children is that it triggers my emotional memories of what it was like to be that age. What it was like for me - not to say it's like that for them. I felt the same when I was working with teenagers. For example, when a seven year old is crying that she misses her Mummy, I am immediately transported back to my seven year-old self... missing MY Mummy.
When I was a child, I had some issues with anxiety. Hey, that was kind of like the understatement of the year! Because I couldn't explain anxiety - because I couldn't identify that feeling, I became extremely dependent on my mother. I had *severe* separation anxiety from her for my entire childhood. This was very trying on my mum, my dad, and my sister. I still feel badly that my sister had to put up with years of her needs being put behind mine, because mine were quite simply - louder.
Okay - the scene from today. I am driving the two children to their mother's work so I can take the one who misses her Mum to see her Mum, and the other one to an extracurricular activity. It felt like the longest ten minute drive of my life, because the more she was begging to see her Mum, the more I was feeling that anxiety in myself - that NEED to get her to the place where she feels the most safe. I was perilously close to bursting into tears myself.
I dropped off the two children in their respective places, trying to also be empathetic towards the one who was being such a patient trooper through my process of fulfilling the other child's needs. I drove home, and I cried the whole way.
I think this may be a small pitfall I will encounter in any work I do that involves caring for another, or supporting another. I have this weakness where if I relate to someone's pain in some way, I try to hold that pain inside myself to keep the other person from feeling all of it. Needless to say, this does not work. It was difficult in counselling, because I had to learn to be supportive, while still building a little warm bubble around myself that took in the bad and vaporized it before it could reach my heart. In fact, there are some interesting visualisation techniques for helping professionals to do exactly that - build a warm bubble. Not a wall, but something that is both protective and permeable.
Sigh.
I'm sure of one thing - "Adventures in Baby-sitting" is not a realistic movie, and Mary Poppins can stick her spoonful of sugar up her wazoo. NO one has that much patience. And you know what? That's okay.
PS
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Sweet goodbyes.
Hey readers.
I kinda sit here wondering what happened to my life, my plans. I was going to be a successful social worker, making change from inside the system, living comfortably with myself, and who I have become. I mean, I never presumed I would be in love and in a committed relationship by the age of 31. I never expected to be well-off (financially), and I certainly didn't believe I would be famous. I never expected them, though sometimes I hoped. I never, however, thought I would have the doubts about myself that I still have to this day. I guess I expected that I would be a grown up.
This blog is soon to become the life and lessons of a well-educated woman, squandering her degree (earned through blood sweat and tears) and working again in the field of "I'll take what I can get". That being said, I have been blessed with opportunity. I will be working part time at a bar - the one I worked at for years and had some wonderful times within. I will also be working as a nanny. Shocking, I know. Who the hell put ME in charge of child care? It's no secret that I don't want to have children, but I don't believe that disqualifies me from loving children, and caring for them. Oh, the adventures we will have. Stay tuned!
With one new chapter beginning, one closes. Today, I ran into an ex-client on the street. I was her counsellor for a year. The thing about going on medical leave is that as soon as your doctor writes you off, you are *unable* to work. In my case, that meant... no more contact with clients. I lay in bed for nights worrying about the 20 some-odd youth I left without any explanation. Keeping in mind, these are resilient youth to which disappearance is normal. Sad, but true. I guess I just didn't want to be added to the list of disappointments. Of course, I kept my ego in check. I realized that in most cases, my clients wouldn't care that I was going to be replaced by a colleague. But there was one. There was one who I KNEW would feel hurt and betrayed by my sudden withdrawal.
We met today on the streets downtown. I still feel obligated to keep our conversation privileged. I will say this - I let her down. But she still told me how much our time together meant to her. And I told her how much working with her had meant to me.
We both stood in the middle of the street, tears streaming down our faces. It was a happy greeting, and a very sad goodbye. I didn't want to stop hugging her and let her go, because I knew it was a chance meeting. This was someone I had seen once a week for a year, and I had to let her go. It was by far the most significant moment in my life that I've had in years.
I'm left with a million emotions. I'm happy that she is well, because I was so, so worried. I'm sad that I will be unable to attend her *very hard earned* high school graduation. (Needless to say, I always knew she'd get there.) I'm angry because my stupid fucking health crap got in the way of seeing her victories through... of being there until SHE no longer needed or wanted my support. It should have been her decision. I cut her off before she wanted to be cut off. I wanted to be there until she was ready to say goodbye. I hate that until now, I didn't get to explain what happened. I didn't get to explain that it wasn't that I *forgot* to contact her, it was that I was not legally allowed to do so. I hate that I was just a blip on the radar for so many youth who meant so much to me - not because of my job, but because of how incredibly amazing they are. And I am so very humbled... so very very humbled... to have someone tell me how important I was to her in a difficult time in her life.
I will never feel like my three years as a counsellor were a waste. Because I know that there is one person out there who was thankful for my presence, even if for a brief period of time.
I wish I could say I felt peaceful with today's events. But all I can feel is complete anger at myself and my situation. I'm so jealous of those counsellors I worked with who didn't have mental health problems, who got to see youth come and go on their OWN terms - not the terms of the clinician. I feel as though I began working with a number of youth, giving them this promise of stability. When I had to break that promise, I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. A chance to explain that sometimes, us adults are just as fucked up as the people we are trying to help.
I guess I've been kinda fooling myself. I don't just want to take a year off from my chosen career. I don't trust myself to be able to make attachments like that again. I don't trust that I won't fall apart because of my own shit. I know that in most cases it doesn't make a difference, but what about those few where it does? I don't feel strong enough right now to take that chance. And the person who is missing out is me.
PS
I kinda sit here wondering what happened to my life, my plans. I was going to be a successful social worker, making change from inside the system, living comfortably with myself, and who I have become. I mean, I never presumed I would be in love and in a committed relationship by the age of 31. I never expected to be well-off (financially), and I certainly didn't believe I would be famous. I never expected them, though sometimes I hoped. I never, however, thought I would have the doubts about myself that I still have to this day. I guess I expected that I would be a grown up.
This blog is soon to become the life and lessons of a well-educated woman, squandering her degree (earned through blood sweat and tears) and working again in the field of "I'll take what I can get". That being said, I have been blessed with opportunity. I will be working part time at a bar - the one I worked at for years and had some wonderful times within. I will also be working as a nanny. Shocking, I know. Who the hell put ME in charge of child care? It's no secret that I don't want to have children, but I don't believe that disqualifies me from loving children, and caring for them. Oh, the adventures we will have. Stay tuned!
With one new chapter beginning, one closes. Today, I ran into an ex-client on the street. I was her counsellor for a year. The thing about going on medical leave is that as soon as your doctor writes you off, you are *unable* to work. In my case, that meant... no more contact with clients. I lay in bed for nights worrying about the 20 some-odd youth I left without any explanation. Keeping in mind, these are resilient youth to which disappearance is normal. Sad, but true. I guess I just didn't want to be added to the list of disappointments. Of course, I kept my ego in check. I realized that in most cases, my clients wouldn't care that I was going to be replaced by a colleague. But there was one. There was one who I KNEW would feel hurt and betrayed by my sudden withdrawal.
We met today on the streets downtown. I still feel obligated to keep our conversation privileged. I will say this - I let her down. But she still told me how much our time together meant to her. And I told her how much working with her had meant to me.
We both stood in the middle of the street, tears streaming down our faces. It was a happy greeting, and a very sad goodbye. I didn't want to stop hugging her and let her go, because I knew it was a chance meeting. This was someone I had seen once a week for a year, and I had to let her go. It was by far the most significant moment in my life that I've had in years.
I'm left with a million emotions. I'm happy that she is well, because I was so, so worried. I'm sad that I will be unable to attend her *very hard earned* high school graduation. (Needless to say, I always knew she'd get there.) I'm angry because my stupid fucking health crap got in the way of seeing her victories through... of being there until SHE no longer needed or wanted my support. It should have been her decision. I cut her off before she wanted to be cut off. I wanted to be there until she was ready to say goodbye. I hate that until now, I didn't get to explain what happened. I didn't get to explain that it wasn't that I *forgot* to contact her, it was that I was not legally allowed to do so. I hate that I was just a blip on the radar for so many youth who meant so much to me - not because of my job, but because of how incredibly amazing they are. And I am so very humbled... so very very humbled... to have someone tell me how important I was to her in a difficult time in her life.
I will never feel like my three years as a counsellor were a waste. Because I know that there is one person out there who was thankful for my presence, even if for a brief period of time.
I wish I could say I felt peaceful with today's events. But all I can feel is complete anger at myself and my situation. I'm so jealous of those counsellors I worked with who didn't have mental health problems, who got to see youth come and go on their OWN terms - not the terms of the clinician. I feel as though I began working with a number of youth, giving them this promise of stability. When I had to break that promise, I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. A chance to explain that sometimes, us adults are just as fucked up as the people we are trying to help.
I guess I've been kinda fooling myself. I don't just want to take a year off from my chosen career. I don't trust myself to be able to make attachments like that again. I don't trust that I won't fall apart because of my own shit. I know that in most cases it doesn't make a difference, but what about those few where it does? I don't feel strong enough right now to take that chance. And the person who is missing out is me.
PS
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