Posts Tagged ‘Mary Janes’

Bubble Wrap

July 4, 2017

And it’s being razor bladed off you.

Sometimes my supervisor has a way with words that astounds me.

I like to consider myself a writer, perhaps having a bit of a way with words, at times, I am definitely wayward, so there is that too.

But.

Man.

He knocked it out of the park today.

“It’s like this, you’re a brand new therapist, you’re still being taken out of the bubble wrap and they are razor blading it off you,” he paused, “you are getting overwhelmed and you need time to acclimated all the things that you are getting from your clients.”

He paused, straightened the hem on his pants, a tic sometimes that I’m not sure he’s aware of when he’s collecting his thoughts, like someone taking off their glasses to polish them when they want to find the right words to tell you you’re about to get fired.

Then he continued, “you are getting a lot from you clients, you are having some extraordinary insights, I’m not going to deny that, but you need some boundaries around it so you can assimilated all the information.”

I know what he is saying.

I was surprised last week when I got tossed as many clients as I did.

“Hey!  I’m new! I don’t have the chops yet!  Wait a minute, please,” I remember thinking and I also called into my person who tagged me out.

“You are overwhelmed and they are giving you too much and you need to push back,” he told me, “I can hear it in every message you are leaving, it’s great you’re a therapist and you’ve got skills, but you are absolutely overwhelmed.”

He was right.

And.

By grace, by God, by luck, what have you, I was granted small reprieves here and there and pockets of time that I was able to fall in, be held in, like the big oversized European chairs in my employers house.

Sometimes when I get a break, when the kids are not around, when the baby is sleeping, when the mom is off at her office or running errands and I am not in class and needing to catch up on my reading, I will sit in one of the chairs and stare out the big plate-glass windows of the back wall–it’s an entire wall, ceiling to floor (and it’s a high ceiling over twelve feet, probably fourteen foot high) of windows, one side of the house to the other.

I can see the entire downtown skyline.

I can see the Bay Bridge.

But most of the time I look at the tops of the trees, the scudding clouds, the blue of the sky.

Sometimes I will listen to music.

Sometimes I will just sit quietly.

But I always look at that sky and it replenishes me, the blue, the depths of it, the calling of calmness that comes over me.

I feel serene and there have been times, rare, but they have happened, when I can sit for a half hour.

Most of the time I get five, ten minutes.

And a lot of the time.

I don’t get any at all, not since the kids have been out of school.

The baby and I hang out more and more, oh my God his smiles when he sees me, melting.

I joked earlier today with the mom that it was the warm smell of baby that was the reason my clients are re-booking with me.

Re-booking.

I have three clients now that all have had more than two sessions and are continuing to schedule with me.

And the one client who has requested me.

I haven’t been assigned to him yet, so I don’t know the outcome, but my peers in group supervision seemed very positive about it.

If I have hours available, which I do, and the client request me, I let the assistant director and the director know and hopefully I will get that client.

It was actually that specific client that led my supervisor to put down his foot.

We had only gotten to discuss two of my cases and when I got into the details of what this new client was going through I thought for a minute he was going to throw down his notepad and call up my internship and scold them.

He collected himself and then talked to me about being a brand new therapist and how I was still opening and learning and how it shouldn’t be forced.

I shouldn’t be getting razor bladed out of my protective wrapping quite so fast.

I felt a mighty respect for the man and his consideration of me and my abilities but also in his protectiveness.

It also means that there was nothing wrong with me feeling overwhelmed last week.

I was.

Simple.

There have been times though when I have been all, “I got this,” and maybe I do and maybe I’m faking it until I make it, but generally I do pull it the fuck off and I do well and I am a good therapist.

I mean.

I am learning like fucking crazy, my instincts are really good and I’m able to track my clients and what they are sharing really well.

I know I surprised my client today with my recall of our session, and also that I was able to build some trust, I’m listening, I’m there, I’m empathetic.

I also don’t want to be overwhelmed and I want to show up and be of service.

I have a routine that works really well for me now that I know how long it takes for me to get from work to my internship.

I get done with work, use the bathroom, refresh my lip gloss, step out of my nanny shoes, literally, put on my therapist shoes, today a pair of Fluevogs, my “Leader” black stacked heel Mary Janes, and collect my bags and my files and hop on my scooter.

I get to the internship, lock down the scooter, take my basket bag out of the basket, key into the building and take the elevator.

I pray on the way up.

I breathe.

I open my office door, depending on what day of the week it is I am in a different office.

I pull my client file, review my notes, look over my supervision notes, tidy the room, hang my jacket, secure my purse and then pray again, to carry the message, not the mess, to be of service, to be helpful to be a good therapist.

I look at my phone and make sure that the volume is turned off.

And I put it away.

I always make sure that I have five minutes to breathe and sit and be settled in my chair.

The phone rings.

I buzz in my client.

I give them a minute to get to my floor, I put the Please Do Not Disturb, Session in Progress, sign on my door and go client my client.

And like that.

I’m a therapist.

Sometimes overwhelmed.

But mostly.

Vastly.

Amazingly grateful.

To be doing this work.

To be of service.

To serve.

I am so grateful.

Even when I am overwhelmed.

It passes and the gratitude washes over me and I know.

I am held and carried.

God didn’t bring me this far to drop me on my ass.

I don’t think so.

I’m just beginning.

There is so much to learn.

Just one foot in front of the other, one moment at a time.

Living in this present.

The gift.

My gift.

This thing that keeps giving.

This love.

This grace.

This life.

It is not mine to command.

But only to serve.

May I do so with continuous grace.

And no small amount of humility.

May it be enough.

As I know.

Know.

That I am enough.

 

God Damn It

January 11, 2017

I got the cold.

Dude.

I just got over the stupid flu thing that was going around.

Two weeks of that shit over my birthday and Christmas and now.

NOW.

I have the cold.

I just did the unheard of.

I mean, UNHEARD OF.

I called in sick to work.

Because when out of nowhere, I mean, no warning, ones nose starts running so fast that it ends up in your cleavage, you don’t go to work.

Um.

No.

Especially not with a brand new baby in the house.

Guys.

I just got the fucking flu shot last week, and the Tdap.

I think I caught it last night, I could feel a tickle in my nose and I had a little bit of difficulty falling asleep.

But.

I went in.

I didn’t think much of it.

The weather, frankly, is not much help either.

Wet feet, rain, wind, storms, coldness.

Lots of excitement out there.

Ugh.

I thought maybe, maybe, it’s allergies.

Because at first all that was happening was random big sneezes every so often.

Until towards the end of the day and then it started to be a bit of congestion and runny nose.

Then more rain, cold, waiting on trains and by the time I got home I had to have the box of tissues right by my side.

Because when my nose started running that fast I had to use my shirt.

Ugh.

Oh my God.

I had absolutely no desire to call in sick, in fact, I feel mortified.

But I can’t with any good conscience take this to work with a new-born.

Oh, my nose hurts.

Bad.

This is not good.

I have school this weekend, my anniversary dinner, get out of my body fucking illness.

Ugh.

Grr.

I swear, my entire blog won’t be about my cold.

I got my dress!

There’s that.

And it’s so cute.

I was right, the company sent my dress to the woman who’s cardigan sweater I received.

Pretty easy mistake, we both live within blocks of each other.

So she came by tonight, dropped off my dress, got her sweater, and hey, hey.

I have a super cute new dress.

You can check it out here.

Freaking adorable.

Fits like a charm.

I will either wear it with my platform Mary Janes or my Converse, depending on how I feel come Sunday.

I’m going to school, I’m not going to call out sick and hopefully, whatever stupid cold bug this is will rapidly cycle through and out of my body.

I’m wearing that dress come hell or high water.

With my little black cardigan and some black leggings, it’ll be hella cute.

And it looks really good with my hair back to brunette.

Happy to have a new frock.

Yes.

And super happy I didn’t have to return the sweater and wait for the company to figure out the error, really happy I was proactive and contacted the woman who was listed on the packing slip.

Granted I could get annoyed with the company, but it was a human error, and mistakes happen.

I’m just happy to have it for the weekend.

And for in general.

It’s a very cute dress.

Pardon me while I breathe open-mouthed and sit here with a very strange look on my face, that one, yes, there, the one where I’m about to sneeze but haven’t yet.

Hella distracting.

I think I’m going to make more tea.

I think I might have to have tissues delivered if I continue wiping my nose.

Goodness.

Yeah.

I haven’t heard back from the family, but I really don’t see going into work tomorrow, not at this rate.

I’m in bunny slippers with my third cup of tea since I got home, shed the shirt I wiped my nose on, thank you very much, and a box of tissues on the table that is now half empty.

I don’t actually, at the moment, feel that bad, and I sound hella sexy, like I stuffed three packs of menthol cigarettes in my mouth and lit up after drinking a bottle of whiskey.

Not that I did either.

It’s fun though, sort of, having a husky voice.

God’s way of compensating for the runny nose.

Sorry your snot ran out your nose so fast you had to use your shirt, but hey, you sound super sexy.

Like anyone wants to be within ten feet of me right now.

I could use a cuddle if you’re down, though.

Just saying.

Misery loves company.

Heh.

Oh gosh.

I amuse myself.

Which is good, I’ll probably be my only company for the next twenty-four hours or so.

Hoping that if I take it easy and let the cold run it’s course, I haven’t really much of a choice, it’s running it’s fucking course down my face, I will be able to at least go into work on Thursday and be ready for the school weekend come Friday.

At least tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of rain for a while.

I might just need to do that.

Lie in bed.

Listen to the rain.

Sneeze.

Like I just did.

Whew.

Wow.

That’s some heady shit.

Hahaha.

That was like, make sure your eyes are closed tight, or your eyeballs might fly out of your head.

Sneezing is actually kind of fun in a gross out kind of way.

I’m so distracted, this blog is taking a long time to write.

And I am legitimately sick.

So.

I’m going to call it a night and ease on down the road with my box of tissues.

Night all.

Rest well.

I’ll be using my box of tissues for a pillow.

Heh.

You think I’m joking.

 

 


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