here's what I need:

I need to be able to say: I have no idea what I'm doing at my job, I'm quite possibly making my clients worse, I'm definitely working harder than my clients, and my stress level is starting to get the best of me.

And when I say that, i don't need to be dismissed with the "oh, everybody feels that way" or "I felt that way too."

Guess what - that's not empathy. That's not motivational. That's dismissive and "being an expert." Come on, use your motivational interviewing skills. Use your skills to join with me, rather than telling me why my perception of my own experience is incorrect, while yours is somehow more accurate even though you haven't even asked me to tell you a goddamn thing.

***********

I'm just ranting after a bad day at work, but I wanted to nip the "everyone feels that way" response in the bud - and I hear it from everyone and I've said it myself. Guess what? It doesn't help. it doesn't "normalize" the experience. It just diminishes my point of view in light of your own "expertise."

I should remember that when I tell it to my clients Oh....she said breezily, everyone hates withdrawals. you'll feel better eventually....


Or...as it happened last week: I was discussing how alcohol dependence is so dangerous that if we have a potential client who's clearly physically dependent on alcohol? We will tell that person, whatever you do, DO NOT stop drinking until you get yourself to a detox or emergency room, because if you quit drinking all of a sudden right now, you will go into DTs and quite possibly die.

So it was nice when, at that point, one of my clients burst into tears and ran *wailing* (WAILING) from the room, because apparently that was exactly how her husband died two years ago when she "forced" him to stop drinking for their daughter's wedding weekend or something. And then after that class, my client went out and drank all weekend. Not that she wouldn't have anyway, but it's nice when clients call your voicemail in the middle of the night sobbing telling you why your class caused them to relapse.

Sigh. And it's starting to be, if I had a nickel for every time i had a client say that my class caused her to _______________. Well, i'd have me close to a dollar, I tell you whut.

That's the other thing. I find myself often thinking the following: Oh FUCK you guys.

That's gotta be worse than calling your patients "wackos."

it doth keep on giving

Went into work, my boss took one look at me, stopped dead in her tracks, and sent me straight back home.

Apparently I don't look too healthy. Apparently I am a little pale. Apparently my visage appears a little weary. Apparently I am in a state resembling ... death.

Nice. I'm going back to bed.

False alarm....

just a summer cold, i suspect. Codeine certainly helped. Seems to be clearing up now. My glands are no longer swollen up like river rocks.

I got a facial on monday - something i'd scheduled weeks ago. Poor gal, I was sneezing on her the whole time (eew!). And every time she rubbed my neck, i thought I was going to scream.

back to work tomorrow, jiggity jag. Whata mess that's going to be.

ugh cough cough...

from the massive sore throat that I woke up with yesterday, the sleeping almost all day yesterday, the body aches, the lethargy, the deep rumbling cough, and the fact that my office mate chased me out of the building today waving a can of Lysol, I would say there's a good chance Mama's come down with the flu.

bleah.

Summer's bounty....

Our monster tomato plant, which took over the entire vegetable bed - choking the life out of the beans, peas, and peppers, and sucking up every bit of nutrient from the soil - has finally FINALLY produced ripened tomatoes. The delay, I believe, comes from the position of the bed this year - between the pear tree and the lilacs: it gets neither morning sun, nor late afternoon sun. This was the same position of the pumpkins and squash last year, and I remember now that it was too damp and dark a place for them also, so I don't know why I thought we should grow tomatoes there.

At any rate, the summer's first tomatoes appeared in my kitchen last night. Sigh, oh my god. What a tomato actually tastes like? Rich and almost sugary with an acidic kick that fills your mouth: versus the watery blankness of an unripened supermarket variety (which I don't even buy any more. The closest you can get to tomato taste in the super market are ripe cherry tomatoes).

So...last night, eBoy made a BBQ beer-can chicken (he sends me to 7-11 to buy the single can of Budweiser, because he's too embarrassed), while I simply sliced those gorgeous tomatoes, added some red onion and avocado, and sprinkled with olive oil, white balsamic vinegar, and salt and pepper. Absolute heaven.

In other news.....new Julia Child books await my attention. I can't wait.

I'm not much of a reader....

Are you reading anything good these days?

I've finished some excellent books recently, including Fahrenheit 451 - which was startlingly prescient - right down to the iPods. Right now I'm listening to, finally, A Short History of Nearly Everything (or something like that) by Bill Bryson in my car after carrying the cd's around for nearly a year in my glovebox. But now that I spend an hour each day commuting, it's nice to feel like it's not a wasted hour - and I can only stand so much of Air america. I like the topics, it's just that most of the callers take for-ev-uh to get to the point and I'm so non-confrontational that I don't like to hear people argue, even on the radio.

I was trying to read Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, but eBoy literally took it out of my hands and began reading it. I've also started listening to the short stories of John Cheever while I knit. I've been feeling lately like I don't read nearly enough, nor am I as well read as I would like. I mean, yes, of course I read - but I want to be one of those people that could identify a poem by Dylan Thomas or compare and contrast the presentations of hell in Paradise Lost vs. Dante's Inferno. (Guess I should have gone to class more back when I was an English major)

And then I wonder why I get nothing done on my thesis.

By the way, I'm also currently reading Dissertations and Theses from Start to Finish.

By the way, I received my diploma last week. Finally. Took my addictions professor long enough to post grades. But now I'm a real....Master of Arts. (cue Master of Puppets....)

Molly is VERY interested in the butter you're holding...

And then....depression set in....

I don't know when I became so hard on myself. I have these totally unrealistic expectations that I set for myself and i just can't manage them. I just don't get up at 5 and go to the gym and then come home and write for an hour and then work on not-so-complex geometry problems for an hour then go to work for 10 hours and then come home and knit for an hour while listening to Anna karenina on my Ipod. But WHY can't I do this. I know it's unrealistic, but jesus, I've been trying to give up alcohol, caffeine, red meat, white meat, trying to exercise regularly and yet i can't seem to get myself where I want to be or even stick to my own goals.

It's very frustrating that even after 5 years of working and planning, i still haven't managed to position myself as a suitable candidate for doctoral programs, I just can't get the research positions, i just can't get the publishing experience. And now I'm working in addictions, which is great experience, but I feel like i'm not helping my clients at all, plus a new development in that two of them have stated that they hate me and are effectively poisoning the entire group dynamic, plus a referral source that came along behind me and without ever actually meeting the client, totally rewrote my treatment plan - placing a 21 year old kid with a .10 duii into an intensive outpatient group designed for severe meth addicts meeting 3 times per week becuase she thought his having a beer was a "cry for help" - but is much more likely to be a sign of a 21 year old kid who isn't ready to give up drinking beer.

yech.

I got a new book at APA conference: How to Write a Lot. It says I'm supposed to write Every Day. I'd love to. I just don't know what to write. But here it is 8:30am. I've managed to get a good night's sleep without the aid of sleeping pills - and this is an accomplishment for me. But I didn't get up at 5 and go to the gym. I haven't written academically for an hour, and I haven't looked at my algebra problems yet. It's totally unrealistic to think that I can get all these things done - I get that. But it doesn't stop me from beating myself up about it.

I did, however, balance my checkbook. When's payday?

The principles of effective intervention with offenders....

I am thoroughly wrapped up in my thesis right now. I'm also halfway through "how to do algebraic word problems" - still working on GRE stuff.

The weekend in San francisco was delightful, although my flight got canceled, I hurt my knee, eBoy gave me the wrong keys to his cousin's apartment, I had to intervene when a homeless drunk was harassing some poor woman, and I had a bit of a nervous breakdown.

More on it later.

Wheeee!

I'm going to San Francisco this weekend! Squee!

This is my first time back since we moved. Oh I'm so excited. And to top it off, I'm going to the APA convention. Woot!

This is going to be the Best. Weekend. Ever.

And then Dr.D totally blew my week out of the water when she asked where do you want to go eat.

Oh my god, where DON'T I want to go eat?

So now the rest of the week will be involuntarily focused on weekend's gastronomical agenda.

Eight random facts about me.....

By special request....

1) The carpet doesn't match the drapes.

2) I am obsessed with Julia Child.

3) I have a tattoo on my ankle that has a very naughty story behind it.

4) My favorite cocktail is a gin n'tonic.

5) I've never had a cavity.

6) I've had both my tongue and belly button pierced.

7) I read gardening books, but I rarely actually garden.

8) In high school, the headmistress told my mother that she thought I'd probably become a stand-up comedian.

There you go.


And for the other: High school meme meme-maker:

Who was your best friend?
Markmiller 5 and Kate

2. Did you play any sports?

I swam and played basketball my freshman and sophomore years.

3. What kind of car did you drive?

65 Chevy Malibu. A big, white boat, in which I drove everyone I knew everywhere around LA.

4. It’s Friday night. Where were you?

Drinking wine coolers at Pat C's and taking the purity test. Multiple times.

5. Were you a party animal?
Yes, but we were very small and timid animals...

6. Were you considered a flirt?
Um...maybe. But only in the saddest way possible, because it never did very much good.

7. Were you in the band, orchestra or choir?
Glee Club and Choir (at Christmas). Oh yeah, and I played bass in a ska band. No not really, but it sounds cooler than glee club and choir. Sigh. Oh yeah...I was on the Drill Team. I lived for it. I loved it. Oh the shame now.

8. Were you a nerd?

Definitely, but not in that study-really-hard go-to-Yale sort of way. Mostly in that sort of drinking wine coolers in the parking lot behind Mayfield while I compose drill team routines in my head to a favorite selection of Irene Cara tunes sort of way

9. Were you ever suspended or expelled?
Um - NO. (JBM5 - what is the story here???)

10. Can you sing the fight song?
Yes - it's called Sir Gary Will Kick Your Ass (Surgere Tentamus)

11. Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Moran, definitely. And of course, I have a soft spot for Wasserman.

12. What was your school mascot?
Uh, Brook and Esme Gregson?

13. Did you go to the Prom?
Many times, and I've promised all parties involved that it would never be spoken of again

14. If you could go back, would you?
I LOVED high school. I had the time of my life (and I never felt that way before). It's the truth, and I owe it all to you..

I would only go back knowing everything I know now. And then I would focusing more on going to Yale and less on drinking wine coolers in a parking lot.

15. What do you remember most about graduation?That jeff mcA didn't show up. And some woman was blathering on about turtles spitting on her. And I wore a size 14 dress.

16. Where were you on Senior Skip Day?
I can't remember what we did. Only that we took pictures in the rain in the alley behind the eBar. And that my grandfather died that morning. But there I am, still grinning like a chesire cat in those damn rainy photos

17. Did you have a job your senior year?
"A quart of Jamocha Almond Fudge? Certainly! Would you like a spoon with that?"

18. Where did you go most often for lunch?
We sat on the quad. Or we drove to Loyola. Or to Penguins. Or to McDonalds. Or to Bristol Farms.

19. Have you gained weight since then?
I am SO much thinner now than I was then.

20. What did you do after graduation?

went to a college far away, never went to classes, graduated, and got a job. Moved to San Diego, where my entire life and brain chemistry changed.

21. What year did you graduate?
1988

22. Who was your Senior Prom Date?
Merrily We Role Along.

23. Are you going/did you go to your 10 year reunion?
I went to my 15 year reunion and had a BLAST (A BLAST!!!) with my dear friend, Mark5.

24. What is your biggest regret in high school?
Hitting on Kevin Price :-p Well, hitting on Kevin Price and then being forced to endure his six hour explanation of why he only liked me as a friend.

Oh, and if I could really do it all again, I'd just have worked my ass off academically in high school and college. But then I wouldn't be the cool-ass person I am now.

Happy!!!?

Feeling points-tastic

Spent four days at a WW leader training. FANfreakingtastic. I was not expecting it to be so useful (nor so motivating, but it WAS like spending 96 hours straight through a WW meeting). And I have to say that I learned more about conducting group counseling for adults in one afternoon than I learned through my entire graduate program. And, I think I made some pretty good friends. There were a couple of gals (and a guy) there that I really liked, so hopefully we can all get together for healthy snacks and water sometime.

And afterwards....I was feeling so up and inspired and goal-oriented that I went and tried on the wedding gown that I'd been eyeballing. The very slinky, sheath gown.....it's GORGEOUS. And it looked great! I was so excited! And I was trying on a size medium and it was a little too big, and the gal said that I should plan on getting a small. A SMALL. squee.

Why is it that I only ever seem to be wearing black thong underwear whenever I go try on wedding gowns? sheesh.

Anyway, I can't decide whether to get second opinions or not. I really love it, but i'm afraid that someone will talk me out of it. My plan is to go try on more gowns, just so I have really investigated this and I'm not buying it just out of the excitement of fitting into a small white dress. At any rate - the gym workouts are being steadily ratcheted up. This gown is very body conscious - which normally would have me running for the hills, but it really wasn't too bad for a first try on, and 8 or so months still to go.

It sucks. I don't really have anyone here that I can go gown shopping with. eBoy says he wants to see the gown ahead of time because he wants to make sure that it doesn't clash with his chosen wedding wear of "linen pants, a cuban shirt, and a fez." Thaaaat's my sweet babboo. sigh.

Hey.....lookitme

Suck day.

Found out today that when I accepted the full time position at my job, I essentially gave up the possibility of getting a research position with the firm - didn't realize that, didn't get told that. I mean, I could apply for the research position, but I would have to give up the job I have now - you know, the one that i've committed to, committed to my employer, committed to my clients.

So....I've been nauseated since about noon... right from the moment I found that out. Right from the moment the head of the company said to me: you can't be a research assistant! You're a Counselor!!!

And then...

At 5:00 I started my intensive outpatient group. Was talking to my clients, talking to "Wally" about this and that, and then sent Wally down to take his UA. About 3 minutes later, Wally collapses and dies right as he's taking the UA. Well, maybe he didn't die right then. But as I stood over him 7 minutes later, surrounded by paramedics and freaking out administrative staff, he sure looked dead.
Bad. Fucking. Night.

I really liked Wally. Wally was around 50 years old. Wife. Kids. Bit of a drinking problem. Nice guy. Quiet. Worried about his liver. Had about three weeks of sobriety under his belt and was proud as punch.

Oh my god....his family, his wife.

I can't get his face, laying there, silent and colorless, at the bottom of the stairs, out of my mind. We'd just talked about 1o minutes ago. He'd had a good day. He'd found out he was a pretty nice guy in sobriety. What a thing to find out at the very end of your life.

Apparently, in the couple of decades that my treatment center has existed, this has never ever fucking happened. The poor UA tech is a massive wreck. As is the 25 year old admin who tried to administer CPR. I am numb. I had to go back and lead group. I had to function. I had to be an example of coping skills. I have to go in tomorrow and do CYA paperwork for my company just in case....

Suck day all around.