It's not me, it's you.

I have finally been able to see that it wasn't all me. Getting back into the disability community, I realize that people- staff are still there, they haven't left their jobs from four years ago when I left. Not only that, but I know them. I get a warm welcome from people who I haven't seen in a while. Seeing the turnover in substance abuse, it's depressing and it shows me that most people can't fucking handle it. Not just me. Moreover, disability services must be doing something right if they're able to retain that many of their employees. It's so funny because if people are not in the same company, they have moved to another.

I have been going to trainings on both mediation and disability services. While I still feel a sense of trauma going in, I begin to realize that I'm not going to be attacked every time I say something and the anxiety and fear wears off with time- gradually. Not to say it won't come back with a vengeance, but I think all along, I've been thinking that I'm the crazy one. Now that I'm no longer surrounded by fucking scientologist brainwashed Social Workers, I begin to realize that people are real. That they give each other feedback, advice when they speak in class. There is a dialogue about comments you make. There is a recognition of different points of view. Not only that, but there is exchange and there is also emphasis on people “being on the same page” and “working as a team”. I notice that when I work with clients now, providers respect my opinion about “best practice”. If I set a boundary with a client off the bat and create rules, it's up to me because it's my own practice and people are respectful and not only that, but ask me for advice due to my experience. While I don't need to be considered as the “end all be all” of mental health, it's nice to know that people respect your experience and ask for what you think about that. I feel appreciated and positive about my abilities. I am getting a bit more confident while I still struggle with anxiety. I don't feel like I have to be perfect in everything. I can just be good enough.

It's good to see that I fit in so much better here. In fact, I feel welcomed for my efforts and my knowledge, not put down or ignored. I share a perspective with people. It's interesting as well because these people are not necessarily totally educated or anything, they just have an understanding of people and empowerment. In my belief, I think you can be a better social worker without getting a degree. It keeps you saner and doesn't brain wash you.

Note: It's shocking to me that substance abuse services are so poor on the West Coast. I don't know if it's just my state, or if it's the entire west coast. However, I noticed on the East Coast that disability services was totally backward and substance abuse services were more advanced. The people who were better at substance abuse services (those on the east coast) embraced research and evidence based practice to move the field forward as a scientific method rather that some personal vendetta of the “normies” against the “addicts”. The people on the west coast who are better at disability services are people with OUT master's degrees. Interesting that there are not many people with master's degrees who go into disability services. Well, so what? I guess that's where I fill a void.

Taking classes on communication and conflict, it becomes more and more evident (there is proof scientifically) that my supervisor was, in fact, a psycho bitch and while I knew this before, I thought maybe it was just me. No, she was really insane and had no idea how to communicate. I'm still working on maitri with her (don't think that will be possible in the near future), but I think that I have recently been able to separate myself a bit more effectively from this weird group of people that make no sense and most likely will always be an enigma – like Scientology – and will hopefully remain so.

I think I got to this point where I was so traumatized by my work, that the only way I could work was to entirely separate myself off “professional” and “personal” with no crossover whatsoever. This was not only not effective, but damaging to me. I think it's important to have boundaries with clients, however, these should come naturally to a person and should be discussed when working in an agency. Many people have different ideas of boundaries and so, there should be a norm discussed (as was evident in my field studies). However, there cannot be one person with boundaries and an entire agency without any. I have realized that my boundaries were continually tested and I was told that boundaries were wrong. I should be more casual, I should care less, I should eat McDonalds for lunch. But god forbid, I shouldn't express knowledge or an opinion because it's frowned upon.

I have learned that it's impossible for a helping professional to remove themselves personally from their profession and it should not be so. If you do so, you lose all sense of your identity and your passion for helping. I have been reminded by a mentor and teacher that it is important to use yourself in your work. I have been working on this and reconditioning myself to do so. I have spent the past two years saying the myself is “wrong” and that I can't use myself in my work because I've been shot down every time I try to bring myself into it. Now, I'm reminded that I got into this profession for a reason. I didn't get into it to be a brainwashed unthinking, unemotional mental health professional. Someone who can't think or talk for themselves or express a simple viewpoint. If those are the type of people who are attracted to “therapy” roles, let them be. I just want nothing to do with them. I got into this profession because I have the ability to be motivating to clients and connect with people somehow. I don't know what it is, but I can do it. I can just be and affect people. I'm also good at figuring out how to help people solve problems. I need to be able to use this in my services. I am outgoing, motivated and encouraging. I have a different style than many and I won't allow my clients to play the victim. I will be direct with them and tell them where I am coming from. This is myself. No one else. It's not wrong, I won't apologize for it and if it doesn't work for an agency, then I'll go elsewhere to use it. If I can't be myself in my profession, it isn't worth it to me. I will leave.

This does not, however, mean that I do not have the ability to set boundaries. It is not appropriate to give your clients gifts, accept gifts from your clients or hang out with your clients. It is not appropriate to be friends with your clients or (obviously) sleep with your clients. It is important to set rules with your clients upfront about your style, give them expectations about what you do. And how you do it, so that when they go against the rules, they know because you can refer to your expectations or a contract they signed. While this is a somewhat personal relationship where the therapist uses themselves as a conduit for which the information comes through, it is still a profession. We are selling ourselves- somewhat like prostitutes. Except without the sex- duh- you guys refer to rule one! We are selling ourselves to people as vessels to improve their lives. Whether there is some personal stuff that contributes to that or not, it is important to think of ourselves as running a business and how we run that business is how we handle ourselves personally.

More later.

All the eggs in whose basket?

It's important to maintain one's sense of self. It is ALWAYS important never to put all your eggs in one basket. When we go about life where we try to put all our energy towards one goal, we neglect most other things in our lives. If we dedicate ourselves entirely to a career, we often neglect our family.
If we dedicate ourselves to a family, we neglect friends (think of all those people who have babies and are suddenly unable to do anything. And if they do happen to invite you over for dinner, there you are trying to have a conversation with the person, who can't seem to pull meaning from any more than two words that you utter in a row because they are so absorbed in the baby. They kindly pretend to listen to your story about trying to buying an apartment or dating a new guy or even a funny story about some asshole who was hassling you in the mall, but they honestly could give a shit less. In fact, what they are really thinking about is when they last changed the kids diapers, whether they need to take the kid to the doctor if they don't stop crying soon, or admiring their new stroller purchase- speaking of which, how boring are these people to spend time with? I have always thought it would be fun to test them- tell them you were recently raped in a matter of fact tone, and they would nod and smile politely. But if you actually told them you were pregnant you would get the earth shattering ear piercing scream of a sorority girl who just scored a date with Tom Brady.).

All of us know people like this. It is the most frustrating thing to be around if you are single or are married and just don't want to treat your kids like they were the number one reason for the existence of the universe and the number one reason for high school friendships to deteriorate. One of my best friends had a kid and suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. If you tried to spend time with her, her attention span was about as expansive as Paris Hilton's vocabulary, “That's hot”. I have kind of let go of friends like this, because unless you decide to be just like them and join the parents anonymous group, you really have no chance of breaking through the insanity.

Not to be hypocritical, I'm sure that when I have a kid, I will be very focused on it for a while and excited. However, I don't plan to structure my life around trying to find the perfect baby clothes and being the perfect housewife. I fully intend to continue a career and be emotionally capable of leaving my kid at home with a sitter or a nanny while I go out with my husband. I want to be able to send it to summer camp and let it learn to separate from me, to be an individual. I don't want it to be codependent upon me, unable to spend one waking moment without me (many of my friends, who didn't have enough money to afford a baby, so spend every second with it and never go out or have lives- even after 4 years). I fully realize the impact a child can have on your life and that's why prior to having one I plan to a. want a child, and b. be financially satisfied with my life and have a set career. I do NOT want to be the mom who all she can talk about is her kid. She completely loses her identity and can't carry on a conversation about herself. You (much less she) have no idea who the fuck she is anymore. All you see is an empty shell of a person who has sacrificed everything for being a mother. This is not my idea of a fulfilling life. This is for people who can't fill a void that they have in their lives, so they decide to distract themselves by throwing themselves fully into the role of “mommy”. Sad thing about this is that when the kid gets to be 18, not only do you have a child who is has serious separation anxiety problems, or hates his parents, you have the same void waiting to be filled when they leave for college. Only then, you're all alone while your husband is probably off having an affair because you've lost track of your relationship and it's twenty years since you've had a job or any idea of what you want to do. Yes, that's a bit depressing and may be a slight exaggeration, but totally true.

All I know is that I haven't heard as many people at 30 complaining that they haven't had children yet. Most people talk about how they had children too young and wish they would have waited because it seems like they've “lost the last few years of my life”. When I see women with two children at my gym telling me, “gosh I miss not having children. These are the only moments to myself”, I feel justified in my decision to wait until I have my own shit settled before screwing up a kid.
Okay, that's enough of my rampage on people who can't stop following their babies around or tracking every fart or burp that passes through their baby's body. But, you catch my drift. This will be a God Bless America (ha) speech. As a country, we are obsessive people. We go full throttle with everything that we see in our lives. I am guilty of it too. In pursuit of being a licensed social worker, I spent four years sacrificing my entire life for one goal. In fact, I did it almost to the extent of burning myself out of social work completely. I felt that no matter what sacrifices needed to be made, they were going to be made. So, I sacrificed my social life, my relationship (to some extent, luckily he was nice enough to stick around and put up with my neuroses), and my interests putting them aside as “not important right now”. I was also reminded on a daily basis that there was something wrong with me and it wasn't that they were important, but that why would I need to engage in such activities.

The only thing that kept me going was running. Don't ask if I was “running away from my job” figuratively or literally, but I was running on a obsessive level, up to 70 miles a week, training for a marathon. I felt like this was the only thing that I could control. In fact, this was the only thing where I could set goals and reach them, and also maintain enough to get away from work.


But how is it fulfilling to spend your entire days getting up at the butt crack of dawn, running 6 miles, going to work for 8-10 hour days and then running another 6 miles at night, being the only way you could wind down enough to shut up about your job (that and guzzling three glasses of wine after your done). Oh, and if you mention you run at work, you hear, “it's really bad for your knees, I can't run”. Of course you can't run you uberfat ass- you weigh 300 lbs. I love how she gets heavier every time. So, hearing that my coping mechanisms weren't even good enough was pretty frustrating.

And they weren't, in fact. I ran until I couldn't even walk around. I was limping before the marathon from medial tendonitis. Nothing serious, but I thought maybe I had a torn miniscus which was a real scare. Sadly, this was the last straw as far as my job was concerned and when I decided to quit. I calculated that I spent roughly 40% of my income in the last two months of work on doctor's bills and massage and other “self care”. It's not like I was making shit anyway. I've never been so obsessive before in my life. I also recognized that if I didn't run that I would seriously not know what to do. I think I would have had a complete breakdown without running. Running and this event pretty much saved my life.

Anyway, I digress. The point is, that my entire identity was based upon doing something that was physically and emotionally painful for at least 40 hours a week and spent the rest of my free time trying to disengage from it, rather than actually letting my career be a part of who I was. I was trying to forget it. I felt like a shell of myself, and really literally was. This was a difficult time. I spent four months trying to piece myself together again, and only now, by making little steps do I realize how much work it took to rebuild.

So, the moral of the story is that you can't put all your eggs in one basket without losing yourself. At least for me being a Gemini, I have a lot of interests and things that I enjoy. My career is just a piece of that. There are way to many other things that are important to me and have helped me maintain balance in my life. These are the things that it's important to incorporate into my work and my life now. Achieve balance by utilizing ALL of my interests. Just because the social workers I was surrounded by did not have that need (granted most of the didn't have any interests), I do have it. And that does not make me crazy or a problem. It makes me unique and better than everyone else! I am a superior being (O:

Choose your own adventure!

Dude, I'm fucking tired today.

Felt dizzy all morning and depressed. I got so frustrated at myself for letting an encounter with my supervisor ruin my week (or at least what I feel like), that I got totally depressed. Or at least I thought I was. Now, I have a fever and feel like I'm coming down with something. At least I'm off the hook for feeling bad. I'll explain that comment.

It's always been unacceptable for me to be not doing well because of “mental issues”. Now, this doesn't mean I'm schizo or bipolar or have any serious, severe mental health issues. This means that when I was younger, my dad would throw a fit every time I wanted to stay home from school because he thought I was faking it because I didn't want to go. This would happen all the time. I remember I would have a 100 degree temp having played hardcore tennis all weekend and dad would be screaming at the door in the morning “time to get UP UP UP UP UP” and singing the Rascals “It's a beautiful morning”. God dammit, it wasn't beautiful, it was pouring down rain in the Pacific Northwest. Just because you've been up for 6 hours already running, it's not fucking beautiful. To a high school sophomore, it's even uglier. So, it was a choice. Yes this is a choose your own adventure.

A. decide to stay in bed. Turn to number 1.

B. decide to get your ass up and go with dad. Turn to number 2.

1.You have a serious fever and feel like shit. You have asthma and sore muscles and a bad cough. What do you need permission to approach the bench if you are sick? Fuck that. Dad comes in the room screaming at the top of his lungs about nothing in particular- about how his sister never missed school because she just went regardless of how bad she was feeling. YOU HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL. WHAT YOU DON'T WANT TO GO BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE IT? What dad didn't know is that I liked high school. It gave me a great option to get away from the screaming and fighting at home. Plus, there was pot in high school. No, dad, I just feel like shit. In comes mom as the mediator. Oh, no everything will be okay. Yes it will. Honey, she just doesn't feel so well. SHE'S GOD DAMN FINE. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH HER! So it goes until dad has either screamed until he's pissed enough and ran out of the house, or decided to drag your ass out of bed to school where you decide to come home at 11 because you're sick. Then mom has to rush to the phone later that night when the automated services says, “your son or daughter has been absent for one or more classes today”. If dad answers and finds out she has to lie and say there was a glitch in the system, or say I had to leave for tennis practice. That always made everything okay. As long as it involved becoming a professional tennis star, everything was okay. Ha, well, at least I didn't go all Wimbledon on his ass, I don't know if you could have lived with both a gay son AND daughter. THE END.
2.You get up and go with dad as he sings songs about “Frog and Toad's Adventures” (remember those books?) or some random Italian exchange student that he liked his name. I don't know how many days I would go to school hearing, “Alaysioooo” in his best rendition of an opera singer. Yea, you wonder where I get my randomness from. So, there he sits, in his old mobster (black wanna be) car playing MC Hammer, talking on his cell phone with a client and shoveling day old flavored caramel corn into his mouth (half of it is going out the window and the other half is going somewhere in the car), talking to me about one of the more overachiever class president type students at my school (who me and all my friends hated) who works at his favorite coffee shop. *Note- dad actually got pulled over once for drunk driving because he was driving a stick shift on a cell phone, eating caramel corn, picking his nose and having a conversation, I really don't know how he had a hand to drive. At this time, I start having fantasies about if he only knew how much pot I smoked and how I still held everything together at school. I wondered if he ever puffed on the schadoobie in high school. And what all this repressed anger was all about. * It turns out that dad had apparently had some bully at his own school who used to intimidate him and dad didn't want to go to school for that reason. So, he figured that when I didn't want to go to school, it meant because I was being bullied. I think he assumed this because I was kind of a hippie and didn't like the “running crowd” in high school. At this point, not only is your fever worsening, but your head is swimming.

Dad pulls up to the school. You 1. run and call 911 for child abuse. This could happen right? 2. decide that you'll walk (if you didn't play a tennis tournament where they put you in 3 matches in one day) or limp directly into the school nurse when you get there where you know you'll be sent home.

1.Good choice- way to deal with the social work issues. Dad is questioned about the neglect or abuse of a child. And maybe shuts up for a while. Pushing a child with a fever to go to school, play tennis tournaments and finish everything on time without extentions in honors and accelerated classes is a form of abuse. Expecting your child to be the fucking next Bobby Fisher if they don't have mad chess skills is also a form of abuse. I was not Steffi Graf and they had no business treating me that way. Oh wait, dad is a lawyer and he has a respectable practice. Stupid luck kid, this way you just get yelled at and threatened for being an asshole. THE END.
2.Best choice.- you go into the nurses office and tell them you have a fever. The nurse confirms that you are sick and sends you home. Stupidly enough, she calls dad, who just got into the office. Instead of taking you home, he takes you down town where he sits you in his office to watch Sesame Street while he works. I don't know about any of you, but how many of you watched Sesame Street when you were 14? I'm not talking about watching it NOW- just when you were fourteen? It's like, “dad, I'm not five” and moreover your head is spinning and all you want is to lay in bed. Dad is insistent that you stay at his office and wait until you feel better. So, it's wait until your fever spikes up to 101 or 102 and THEN he'll let you go home. Because anything under that is a glitch in the thermometer. THE END.

Well, that's one adventure.

Let's try for another shall we? Because dad's really entertaining.

Dad takes the whole family of 20 people out to a fun birthday dinner at his favorite Chinese restaurant. You know what they say about Jews and Chinese. He orders for everyone. Only instead of ordering normally, he says to the waitress, “I'll have thwee ohdas of flied lice”. Everyone laughs except for me and the waitress who glares at him. I'm waiting for her to spit in his food. That would be amusing for everyone except for yours truly. “And twooo muthu pahks”.

You 1. tell dad to shut the hell up because he's being an asshole.
Or 2. ignore him and laugh along.

1.Good for you, you appropriate social worker. You tell dad to shut up because he's being a racist asshole. Then your aunt screams at you and tells you that you are a horrible daughter and you get ostracized. Way to go kid! THE END.
2.Ignore him and laugh along. Embarrassed, you decide that agreeing to go along with the family, you are doomed to listen to dad's bullshit throughout dinner. Actually, it's probably better that you pick your battles. If you don't tell him he's being an asshole, maybe he'll let you stay home from school next time your sick! THE END.
Dad takes you to districts in another podunk town where the locals still wear mullets and get Asbestos poisoning. You play really well and kick some ass until you have to play against your nemesis, a girl who cheats and you hate. Not only that, but dad actually threw a punch at her dad before because she cheated in your match. Good stuff. Well, needless to say, you choke and don't play well. Dad decides to throw a temper tantrum at you in the car. No, you don't realize you screwed up so bad, it couldn't be because of all the pressure you put on yourself. It's just to piss dad off. The world has ended though in his opinion. He has lost so much hope that he wishes you were one of those overachievers because you don't do enough and you can't keep your head on straight! Moreover, he calls you a cow because you weigh 130 pounds and are stocky for tennis- this is obviously the reason you can't move fast enough.
You 1. decided to argue.
2. shut up and wait to get home so mom can tell you how disappointed she is as well.

1.Argue- this is a bad idea. Dad starts screaming and swerving. You finally shut up anyway and dad keeps screaming at you all the way home and won't talk to you for 2 days.
2.Shut up- you decide either behavior doesn't make a difference and you sit and listen to the bullshit being thrown at you and believe it!

One more- on a lighter note, because dad had his moments too: don't know why I'm on this subject today, but it's kind of fun!

Dad invites you to yoga class with mom. You are 18. This is at his favorite yoga studio where you happen to run into one of your school mates. You talk with her for a few before the class starts. She happens to pair up with dad whose showing off his latest pair of spandex shorts with a florescent green stripe across the side. While your mind is screaming no, you try to ignore this. Of course, the class starts you're waiting for all hell to break loose. Sure enough, in the midst of partners grabbing one another's ankles, dad farts right in his partners face for the entire class to hear. AT this point, while I think I would laugh hysterically NOW, I was horrified then.

I don't really have a choose your own adventure for this one. I think you should make your own up.

Insight: Maybe this offers some explanation about my tendencies towards overachieving and the pressure I put on myself. Also, my guilt in relation to being tired or exhausted. Sometimes it's okay not to have energy- but it sure feels more like a guilt trip.

%#@&#$ self pity

So, rejection sucks my ass. Especially when you rejected by a client's mom when the client can't make his own decisions because he is too excited about singing about the California Raisins.

Well, whatever, mom was agro anyway. I guess it's just really important to get some sort of external validation now. But it will come. The I-Ching says to be patient. I didn't even want the job with the client that I interviewed with yesterday. I guess I'm just smacking myself in the face because it seemed so easy to get. I wouldn't have been upset if I hadn't been nervous. For example, I did a couple client interviews last week and was totally myself. If I wasn't totally calm, I definitely felt I looked calm. However, I was angry at myself that I was “shaken” yesterday morning for this interview and that's why they didn't hire me. It doesn't bother me if I'm not nervous and they don't pick me because then I know it wasn't personal. However, if I'm feeling nervous and shake a bit, then I know that my anxiety was the reason. All I really wanted was some affirmation that regardless of the anxiety that I didn't look anxious and people want me to work with them anyway. Yesterday, I was being interviewed with another dude who was visibly nervous. The mother commented on it repeatedly. She was a mess and I felt bad for the other guy. She didn't make any real comments about my behavior, just commented that the other dude was, “intense”.

So, maybe I pulled it off. You know, it's really weird. When other people are visibly nervous, I think, “thank God they didn't see me”. I never think, oh it's not a big deal, I just feel relief that the attention is directed off of me. This is stupid. I should empathize, but I don't. Because anyone who says, there's no reason to feel anxious is right. I really thought I had this job in the bag yesterday. I played it off well, sending an email to the provider saying, “too bad, i thought we had a connection. I hope he didn't choose someone else because I said I liked video games because that was kind of dorky”. I didn't hear anything.

My assignment for this week was to SCREW UP! Practice being less than perfect. Well, I practiced trying to be perfect yesterday. When I practice being less than perfect, usually I feel better about myself. When I practice being perfect, or when I put pressure on myself, things don't work out so well. This is stressful for me, because the last think you want to know when you are nervous is that if you just “relax and be yourself” everything will be fine. Because you know that you can't relax if you are supposed to relax. Telling an anxious person to relax is like telling an idiot to be smart. It's like not possible. It's like telling a fat person to be thin. Good luck with that one at the moment (unless you are Star Jones and you can just do some Pilates- or gastric bypass surgery).


So, I think I need to start telling myself to be nervous. Be nervous as I want to. Because obviously giving myself permission to fuck up doesn't work. I practice screwing up, and then I feel guilty and pathetic and like I can't even move I'm so let down. I have no motivation and feel like a total failure. I think this is a bit disproportionate to being let down by a person who doesn't even have the capability to choose me in the first place. His mom, who was totally agro and controlling was the one who chose me. I thought she was a problem and here I am beating myself up. I guess that I'm really questioning myself as a social worker and as someone that people feel comfortable with and like. It's stressful to know that feeling comfortable with oneself is a pre-requisite to others being comfortable around you. Because if this is the case, there's even more importance and pressure on my performance in this business.

It's difficult when you are so damaged and feel so bad about yourself and that your ego can be beat up so easy (by a feather) to try and be interviewed based solely on who you are, your person. My person is really fragile right now, while I am working on making her tougher. She is getting there, but having a tough time. So, being evaluated as “not a good fit” right now, not at my own accord is not only frustrating, but a complete blow to the ego. It's almost worse that not getting a job. Although similar.

My goal for this week is to remove some of the pressure off myself for being not nervous. Being not nervous seems to be my biggest stressor. It's like if you can be not self-conscious while helping others, you are more effective. When you get too much in your head, you are no longer effective. People can read that in relatedness and comfort level with you. I get so caught up in these things because I feel like people can really read my own feelings when I'm with them. That's why I'm so paranoid when I interview. They know I'm nervous, they can tell. I'm not being myself . Truthfully, I'm not being myself, but no one ever really comments. It's like, do they know? Are they clueless? What do they see about me? About my appearance, the fact that I bring a cup of tea to the interview and wear a scarf to hide my face and draw attention away from myself as much as possible. Do they notice that my jaw quivers and my voice shakes a bit when I start talking?

If someone would simply tell me what I look like I would feel better. Yesterday after that interview, I went to a presentation where I talked about my skills to a room full of 6 staff members. They all complimented me on my performance and poise. But I wasn't really that nervous. It felt nice to be complimented.

If it was a better vibe yesterday, I may have been totally more comfortable and less anxious. However, having a group interview (with another person) and being without the client and also with crazy mom, it wasn't a good scene.

Just wish I wouldn't let myself feel so bad about such stupid shit. Instead of taking advantage of my day off, I get all depressed. Only thing I accomplished today was running ten miles and booking a party for my husband's birthday and getting another referral for an appointment next week that I have VOWED not to tell ANYONE about until I have the interview. No pressure on me. The person who I will be interviewing with actually needs behavioral supports which means a HIGH salary. The case manager also has faith in me and is referring me for behavioral/specialized services. This is a sweet ass referral because of the money. But, I want to stay present with this. To talk about it will jinx it like I've jinxed the other interviews. Honestly, I haven't really wanted any of the other interviews to come through, again, I just wanted to be validated that I'm “in demand” for what I do. It's been such a long process of invalidation.

Whenever I say no pressure, I feel more pressure. It's so important to just be gentle with myself and not worry so much about what I'm projecting or how I look or how nervous I am. This is SO Much to keep track of? How could anyone even be present let alone complete a sentence and look how good I was at at least completing a sentence. Even carrying on a full conversation. I was honestly surprised they didn't choose me until the end of yesterday when I didn't get a call.

Anyway, this was more of a feeling post than most. But it talks about my vulnerability. I need to expose vulnerability and feel okay about it. If I'm nervous, it's okay to be nervous. When that dude said he was nervous yesterday, instead of me piping in, I let him take the fall for me and him. Did anyone notice about me? Or were they too worried about him? I wonder if the provider will ever use me again?

These are all too many things to think about. But self doubt is a fucking pain in the ass. It strikes whenever you risk yourself. But there are other reasons for me.

I blame this all on running into my ex-supervisor the other night. I was feeling so much more calm and balanced and then I see her (she didn't even see me) and I go into full blown panic, right back to where I was. This is such bullshit. Why did I have to see her right when I was starting to feel better. Is this a sick joke to show me how little I have actually progressed since I was at that last job? I felt so bad afterwards because not only did I panic, but I was humiliated and felt horribly guilty for letting it affect me so badly. I was reminded by some that whatever I feel it's okay, and others that they thought I needed to let it go. I can't let it go. If I would I could. What I'm really pissed off about is that I thought I had let it go more than I had. I thought my anxiety was much better. On a level of thinking about her and also a baseline in general. It's not fair that these things jump up so quickly and out of nowhere. To simply kick your ass and remind you, you're still damaged! All the work you've done hasn't really made any difference because look! I can put you RIGHT back where you were. Full blown relapse. Whenever you let your guard down, don't chant your mantra daily or feel like you can actually get back to normal life again, your anxiety jumps back down your throat. “Hey BITCH! Remember me? I'm bad to get some more fucking cred because you didn't give me enough in the last week”.

It's really difficult because I preferred to think of anxiety as something that I can control. However, I can't control everything. Most books tell you that anxiety is NOT something you can control. It comes out of nowhere and sometimes sneaks up on you. If you could control anxiety, would you really be freaking out for NO fucking reason being an asshole and shaking and not enjoying yourself? Would your anxious self take over when it's so much more fun to just be yourself? I don't think so. Maybe if I was depressed and self-deprecating then I would induce anxiety upon myself in difficult situations for enjoyment. But, no. I don't enjoy anxiety. I also get frustrated because anxiety seems like you induce it when you have it. Depending upon external events or how you are thinking about something, anxiety can seem stronger. When you are worried about something then anxiety gets worse instead of better. And it sticks around while you're standing outside waiting to be interviewed.

I'm really god damn pissed off. I want to blame my ex-supervisor (for running into her- what the fuck was she doing at a bar anyway? God damn substance abuse counselor). But then I want to blame myself because no one has power over you but yourself. Anything I feel, I am responsible for. So, I get to take credit for my own self- doubt and pity. Gee that's new and rewarding and insightful. Let me take responsibility for more guilt and suffering?

Reading Peoples' Aura Color

So, today, I broke my hippie sterotype once and for all after meeting a cool couple who looked like hippies but actually showered and took care of themselves. The girl actually commented on my high heels and I told her where to get a cheap pair, I knew she was my new friend. I decided that my entry as of today would start with not just channeling my hippie side, but my gypsy side.

This entry is about reading people's auras. Didn't everyone see Baby Mama (which could have been a whole lot funnier)- the scene where Amy Poehler was reading Tina Fey's color? While a lot of this psychic, gypsy, hippie, new age crap (the guy who always conveniently forget his swim suit when he goes to the hot springs and is of course the last person you actually want to see without a swimsuit because he has elephantitis of the balls with a shriveled cornichon for a shaft- I digress, but you catch my drift) is simply what it is, crap, there are small pieces of it that may have relevance. Again, I am not talking about the men who grow gray, Michael Bolton style ponytails and sit in bookstores in the afternoon telling you how to read the I-Ching and what to consult it about. No, those people are usually just interested in picking up a hot barely legal chick to celebrate their midlife crisis and talk about the fact that they are so liberated that they divorced their wives and children of 16 years and decided to find themselves, not to mention the fact that they aren't wearing underwear today. I'm also not talking about the hippies who go to retreats in the middle of the woods and eat vegan food that's been blessed by snails or whatever wicca wood goddess happens to be their rabbi for the day. You wonder, is she done with ripping on hippies? Sure, I can get back to it later, there are so many fun jokes about hippies! So, to finish the sentence that I started before I got totally carried away in my fun rampage, it is possible to have gut instincts about people and places and be able to read auras. In fact, it's important to do so.

Disclaimer: This morning, I had a revelation about hippies. I like some hippies, many of my friends are hippies. They are just not the hypocritical non-showering types. The hippies I met this morning, one of whom had dreads down to her butt, were clean and she was a runner and snow boarder. While she was environmentally aware (while not a total environmental terrorist), and adhered to some of the stereotypes, she did not have the holier than thou approach that most hippies hold towards “normal people”. So it's possible to look like you fit a stereotype, but not embody it. I never said it wasn't . I love stereotypes because they help us make fun, make light and make sense of the world. If I couldn't say that all Mexicans are short or all Germans were meticulous and controlling, or all Jews were neurotic and insecure, how much fun could I have? But one of my favorite things is people who look a certain way but are something else entirely. My first cue that the hippie I met this morning was not actually a typical hippie is when she told me that her “psycho uptight lesbian boss” wouldn't let her carry a box in high heels. I loved her immediately.


Back to gut reactions. A while ago, Malcolm Gladwell released a book entitled Blink which talks about the different ways that we make sense of the world through colored lenses. He starts out the book with a vignette about Greek sculpture that surfaced. Experts were trying to determine if it was a Classical Greek Sculpture or a modern copy. On first impulse, all the experts believed it was a fake because, “something just didn't feel right”. Continuing to investigate the statue, the details suggested it was real. After endless investigation, a test came back to reveal that it was a fake and the initial impulse was correct. Gladwell suggests different ways to access this split second (actually 1/8th of a second) judgment in order to go with our gut feelings. Some people happen to be better at this that others.

So, reading auras or going with the gut can be helpful. For SOME people. I think that some people have the innate talent of making an accurate snap judgment of someone's reality. I would like to proudly say that am one of those people. I'm sure that you think you are one of them too, but you're not. You have to be born to a Jew and German in order to possess such talents. I am totally kidding, but not really. It's sort of like how Paris said in her book, How to be an Heiress that you have to choose your parents. Some of these talents that we might possess are genetic and there's no way to explain them. Not that Paris really has any talent...

Now, some people who should not rely on their instincts are people with no street smarts. These people will not only get eaten for breakfast and taken for every cent they're worth, but they'll most likely get killed. For some reason, I tend to believe that many of these idiots managed to get themselves into social work. I recently started reading a book called “On being a therapist” by Jeffrey Kottler. He is one of the rare people who talks about a person as a therapist (not a Scientologist). He suggests that therapists who are unwilling or reticent to bring their personality to the therapeutic relationship are most likely just trying to protect themselves from being affected by the client. It is easier to remain aloof and unattached than to show you are affected.

Kottler reveals his own weaknesses and rebuffs critics who say that all social workers are wounded and trying to gain validation through being a therapist. He admits to the fact that he came to the profession as someone who was looking for external validation. I share his beliefs that this is not necessarily a negative thing- I am a person who relies heavily on external validation and have a talent for helping others. He also implies that anyone who becomes a therapist who does not admit to weakness either has nothing to bring to the table, or nothing to talk about. Either one making them unsuccessful or not helpful to anyone.

In my experience, most people in the profession are unable to admit to weakness. A bunch of insecure, neurotic people in denial putting on the facade that they are utterly and entirely in control of everything around them. Anyway, people who lack this much insight are definitely not able to identify let alone follow their instincts. Furthermore, there is evidence that people become disconnected when they burnout because it's easier than continuing to care. How do they possibly think they could rely on instincts if nothing is going on in their heads or hearts!? It's like a hollow ceramic Mickey Mouse statue from Disneyland. It looks creepy and it's hollow.

Okay, I realize that this is one of those tangents that is not healthy because I am more invested in it than I am in celebrity news. So I actually had to stop reading Kottlers book for this reason. He says things that I agree with too much. When I see that no one but me is actually thinking of therapy in this sense, I decide that I want no part of it until synchronicity leads me back to the field of therapy and shows me that it needs me to be a part of it again. Right now, I'm finished with therapy and I'm finished with that book!

Wow, that was a tangent. So regardless of the fact that there are many who don't know how to follow their guts, let's talk about what's really important, ME.

So, here's an example of how I might use snap judgments. Actually, it's more to brag about my own talent. But I'll come up with a point other than bragging later. My husband has a friend who works for an environmental agency, he's laid back, he's mellow and he probably used to be a hippie. He always wants to do something on the weekends, but he usually has to check to see if his wife will be home or what the plan is because he forgot. I told my husband after meeting him twice and hearing about his wife that she's either a total hippie and just doesn't know what's going on, and they really do have to talk, or she is one of those uptight, Type A, environmentalist terrorists who is in charge of everything. I told him I leaned towards number two. He did his usual, oh don't be so negative. Of course, a week later, my husband met her and said his friend was a totally different person around her. I thought this shit was funny and he gave me some much needed props. I love it when I'm right about this shit. I don't know why but it's like this explosion of dopamine, "you were right!"

Another time, I went to a wedding which was outside in New England. The woman's family was bible beaters from the South and the groom's parents were Jews from New England- so you've got drama already. Everyone was there and the bride's parents hadn't showed up. They were now a half an hour late and the rain clouds were threatening above us. We heard thunder in the distance. It was at this point that I decided to start taking bets about what was really going on. I had a few glasses of champagne by then while I was waiting for the festivities to start. I started betting my husband and his friends that there was a family drama ensuing and most likely something really funny would happen during someone's toast later than night. I said that the bride's parents were intimidated and most likely not happy that their daughter was marrying a dreydel lover, or someoe who didn't grow up needing tim buckets to be placed at various spots around the house to make sure the roof leaks didn't cause carpet damage. Or someone who could afford Sam Adams over the blessed Silver Bullet. You don't know how many people tried to defend it to something as simple as a made the wrong turn thing. I'm sorry, but you don't make a wrong turn which had been announced when the parents were late in the first place, on a wedding day! Plus, they had been at the wedding site before and they even had a driver. This story is about as believable as a meth addict telling you that they couldn't get to treatment because their girlfriend came after them with a shotgun and they ended up in the ER for the third time this week. Oh wait, actually that story is MORE believable.

Finally, the brides parents arrived looking distraught and the wedding started. Of course it poured down rain and they had to move the wedding inside. Now call me a rocket scientist, but I don't think I needed to be one to win my bet. Everyone was giving me props by the end of the night, especially when the bride's father in his toast told the audience that he hoped the happy couple would “accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior”. This is definitely not something you say in a room full of the guilt ridden Jews at a wedding. At this point, I was laughing. It was a beautiful night.

What I'd like to know is all the people, including my husband who are seriously taken by surprise by the turn of events, or by the fact that I was right. How did I know? What I want to know is if these people are sincerely surprised or just bullshitting themselves into thinking everything is alright. It's like those people who find out 8 years later that their husbands are having affairs and led a double life. Did you really not know or are you simply bullshitting yourself!?

Now, is this reading someone's aura, or just using common sense? I don't know. While I do have a lot of other weaknesses, I think it is a gift to be able to follow one's sense of insight and read people, places or things with this insight. It takes us through the more difficult times in life. If we learn to tune back into ourselves and find our natural instincts, we are more likely to feel better about ourselves too.

This is also a useful way to avoid shitty people in life. I think it would be nice if we were all endowed with an aura radar. So when we run into one of those people we can't stand, we simply see our aura radar which tells us to think on our feet and make some witty remark to wisely extract ourselves from the situation while possible.

Here's an example. One thing that annoys me to no end about the Jewish community is their ability to gossip. Being a proud member of the tribe, I hate running into that one person who knows what your cousin's new wife's dog is doing at that very moment because they just talked to them. Or the Jew with no tact who will say to someone, “your ex-husbands wife is a doll”. These people are also the kings and queens of questioning. They are faster with a personal question than Billy the Kid with a gun. And I'm not talking about Kiefer Sutherland in Young Guns.
They won't even wait for you to finish with your answer before firing again.

For some reason, probably something to do with childhood, I tend to reveal all these bits of information about myself that “in a court of law could be used against me”. Which is sometimes what it feels like being interrogated by one of these Jews. Well, they also have an amazing way of making you feel unbelievably guilty (trick of the trade?) after you have revealed these stories. Even if it's something basic like what you are doing with your life or where you are working, when you walk away from these people, it's like doing the walk of shame. Or it's like the morning after you got drunk and hooked up with some really unattractive dude. What the fuck was I thinking?

Where does reading auras come in? Well, it is important to develop a protective shield against people like this so that we don't develop the unconscionable sense of guilt after we talk to them. First off, why do we owe these people information? I'm sure that this is where some of my sense of the need for external validation comes from. These types of Jews are always looking for information to spread about all your achievements. When it's spread about you, you know that you are worthy and doing a good job. If people are talking about you, it's all good. But you notice, people are never talking about your general attributes. Oh, “she's a funny person with a great sense of humor and adventurousness”. No they're saying things like, “she's a lawyer with a BMW and a husband who works for the Bank of NY”. The more descriptives, the better. Just no personality traits.

The thing is that some people are not just Jews trying to talk about whose son or daughter is more successful. But some people try to use information against you. These people should set off the aura alarm and be a signal to us to put up our guard. I need to figure out how to access my objective inner instinct in crucial times where emotion is running free. It's important for me not to be open to people who don't offer anything in return. And it's important not to offer information to someone in order to try and get something in exchange. Just because someone asks you a question doesn't mean that you have to respond. You can actually make comments like, "no comment". Paris does it all the time. She says things like, "prison was neat. I had fun. It was great". See how well it works for her! We don't know a thing about her.

People are a lot smarter than they look. We need to operate from the premise that there usually is more than meets the eye going on or ulterior motive in the mix. Not to be paranoid, but we need to wise up. If we are stupid enough to buy into the story about how the bride's parents just took the wrong turn, we are most likely to get hurt and look stupid too. I guess I always veer on the careful and non-trusting side because I see that most people lie. While I might not lie, most people do and I don't want to be the idiot who had the wool pulled over her eyes. Once again, the importance of the aura.