My Rants and Raves

Welcome to my Rants page where I will give daily/weekly/biweekly updates on what crosses my mind, struggles, questions. Enjoy.

January 2006

1-30
The Choice that Makes the Difference
So this past week has shown me the paths I can take. The path to lose it in the next few weeks and there goes the semester, or the path that will keep me well. I've taken steps toward both.

I used to get angry that being on the right track was much like being on a balance beam. I hated how easy I could fall. It didn't seem to be fair to me...that even with hard work I could still fall.

I neglected a few things in that thought however. First, the fact that which steps I took were my choice and my choice alone. I took steps toward losing it and then later would say why did it happen. Somehow I thought that staying up all night several times a month wouldn't hurt me or not taking my meds correctly.

I'm getting my sleep back on track, messed it up just one night really. Meds I've been good...except...I tried to live without concerta and ritalin. I thought, hey I feel great, maybe I can do school without such meds.

No. I can't. My room looks so awful you can't even imagine. And school work? Non existent. This weekend...I will get it right. It seems to be one of the last components to my wellness. I won't look at myself and wonder why thing's aren't right. I know this time.

And yes, it is a fine line I walk...but I no longer get angry that it is a fine line. I accept that it is until I get better practice at being well. I can't all the sudden expect things to just come easy to me. I am leaving what was easy- pain/chaos and going to something I'm not very good at. So of course for a while it will be hard...then one day wellness will be easy and pain/chaos will be hard.

So no, it's not alright for me to freak out at the first sign of trouble. I look at my life and see what choices I have made. Most likely I will see some bad ones then- maybe I didn't eat or eat healthy, maybe sleep is disturbed...maybe I've messed up some meds or my CD's are taking over. There is a reason. And now maybe...I will be calm at the first sign of trouble and just work through it.

The point is...we have so much choice while getting well. But it's up to us to see past the anger at living well be hard...or that just because we make the decision to be well all the sudden things will be fine. We can choose to be realistic- that it will take time, patience and determination. And that each one of us has that in us. When we grow up to be the age that most of us are...pain and chaos becomes a lifestyle choice...when we are old enough we can choose to change our ways and follow the path of wellness. I like having that power- knowing that I do not have to take it like I did as a kid. I don't have to lay here silently waiting for it to be over. But I can say stop now and find my way out of the situation.

It's also stopping yourself from saying, how much more do I have to take? And instead, taking it as it comes and methodically working through the problem. The answer was...as much as it takes. Shit happens in our lives...and it seems that it happens that much more in our lives. But maybe it is not "us" but just how we deal with the problems that come our way.

I have found a constant number of problems come my way...but it's how I deal with it whether it becomes overwhelming. Sure, I still have a bit of denial with some of my problems (like money), but hey...they don't send you to debtors prison.

Maybe instead of panic mode...we can ease off a bit and take things as they come...and more importantly- believe in ourselves to get through. Like I've said before- we have survived the worst of it- the abuse itself! Now...let's survive the after effects.

I don't know about you...but I'd rather take these after effects now...than the horrible abuse I endured. Now at least...I can feel joy and I have a choice.

And that choice makes all the difference.

1-23
News about Julia. Man, did we have a rough session the other day. She was very very angry and let me know that through her yelling. Part of me thinks maybe I did not handle it the right way, but we ended the session on an awesome note. She gets subtraction with borrowing, but forgets the rules sometimes. And for her anger I worked on reasoning and used Teach Me Language.

And she is so angry about having to work so hard for everything. She used to just accept the work, but now it's hard. And I empathize with her. I feel the same way in my therapy sometimes. The other day, I told Julia that I was in therapy too- she seemed to calm down with me after that revelation. When I see her today I think we'll talk more about it and give her some empathy about therapy and maybe that will help her. Also trying to get her less afraid of the dark, that is going well.

I think right now my focus needs to be her anger- and what I can do about that. We will do some sheets on frustration and anger today I think- get to the root of her anger and then get her to try some relaxation techniques when she feels angry.

The irony is not lost on me tha I am teaching a child relaxation techinques when Bobb has been hinting at doing that for a while now. I got the hint, just haven't delved into it quite yet. I am teaching two other kids relaxation techniques. I guess I better start!

I must say though...I love my job. I can't wait until graduation because then I get to get up every day and do what I love. I have a feeling my mental health will take a turn for the better after May 13th. It's going to be freakin' awesome.

1-23
I wrote this for my support group, I figure I'd post it here too.

From a Therapists view, here is how it is. I've seen a lot of posts recently that have been saying not nice things about therapists. And while at times it is warranted, I don't think you all ever have empathy for the therapists and maybe we can work on that.

I can speak about this subject, because while I am a patient in treatment...I am also a therapist. And it wasn't until I was on the other side of the couch that I realized how much therapists sometimes needed empathy.

There is not one person in the therapy room, but two. Each of you bring someting of your life to the table. While you do reveal all of your life to one person and it's not reciprocated- the therapist does bring their history of treating patients.

Are therapists paid? Yes. Are they paid to care? NO. How do I know this? Because when I go to Julia's house and do therapy with her...no amount of money could ever equal the depth of my caring for this young child. And the nights and days where my counselor willed me to live- no amount of money could ever equal her depth of caring.

Therapists do not have to care. They could have you come in, talk or not talk and then let you go. But so often there are the therapists that truly try to figure you out, to help you. They WANT to see you live a good life. Do they have to earn a living? Yeah, just like you and me. But don't ever mistake the money you pay for a meaning of caring, a meaning of how much they will help you.

Think about it, all day long they have to sit there and hear stories, see people cry...see people at their very lowest...see people baring their soul. They see people who have been sexually abused, people that have been to a hosptial and back. Can you imagine how much you have to be stable yourself to be a good therapist. How, at the end of the day you can still believe in humanity and all the joy it has to offer? And then to go in each morning to work and know that you have to provide hope to people, and fight them on it. How you have to fight people to stop fighting to die and to instead surrender to living. To still believe this world can offer joy...after hearing so many hours of pain?

While I am not a psychotherapist...some of the themes are the same for me. I get up every morning and see a child at 8am...he cannot talk and sometimes he can attack you. Do I get angry? No...I know its his lack of communication. But I must then brief his mom and give her hope on this child. I don't give hope because she gives me a check. All day I see children struggling to live, to find their voice, to find themselves. And I care...I care so much. I want these children to live, to be free from their disorder. No check in the world makes me feel this way toward them.

Yes, there are bad therapists out there...but all I have to say to that is- don't use a CD then. ALL therapists are not bad, just like not all are good. But there are some, even more than some...and before you tell them to take a hike...or that they are paid to care...walk a mile in their shoes too. They don't just want your money ... they want you to be happy and healthy and will do their best to get you there- if only you would let them. They are your secret box. But what's more than that, as you tell them their stories, they will help you make sense of it all.

So there is a therapists view. When you say bad things about them, I feel it too. While I am ya'lls friend and mentor... I am a therapist too. And when I cry because of a kids progress...you tell me if it is because I am getting paid. And when I see Bobb cry because I am getting...you tell me if its because I just gave her a check.
Or...because it's human nature to care for those in so much pain ... and in this world there are the select few that feel that pain with you...and then help you reach for something more.

1-23
I made it out of the Ellen Foster novel without too much crying. While the other one was filled with so much pain, this one was filled with so much love- and THAT is what made it so difficult. Feeling that love through the pages...and knowing that I lack that in my life.

I don't think I understand love. My friend and I were trying to figure it out. When I told her I could only say I love you...she asked me...well who would you jump in front of a bus for...and instead of saying just loved ones- if I saw a bus about to hit anyone, I'd try and save them. I don't discriminate with who I would help.

Ted often wants me to say that I would only do things just for him. But I don't understand that...I guess just like he does not understand me. Why would I do something just for one person? I'm an equal opportunity helper. I talk about my life to a lot of people because at one point in my life, I had no one to tell. Bobb gets all my secrets, I tell Sam everything too and she has a release to talk to Bobb...and Dr. Crutch has proven to be one hell of a confidant- that has been cool. And I have my friends, and a couple of the mom's of my kids.

Sometimes it's weird- Ted wants some weird relationship with me where only he knows certain things. However, I think something he needs to learn...in a recovered crazy persons life...that does not happen. While I look normal and for the most part act normal...things are not always so normal. The way he got to 22 years old and the way I got to 22 years old is vastly different. I don't like one person to know everything about me, except for of course Bobb. And for me that is the way it should be- she still remains the only person to know just about everything. What happened with some of that abuse- she knows and I don't feel like I have to tell anyone else. Is it supposed to be normal that you tell your boyfriend things? I don't know...normal is not normal to me.

He still needs some understanding too. More and more often at times I realize the parts of me he doesn't get. And I don't know how to get him there- maybe reading about who I used to be? Who knows.

On to other news. Done with my resume so I can send it off. I am soooo happy and excited about this one company that did a telephone thing with me. They seem to be everything I am looking for and I seem to have things they want from me. I know without a doubt, won't be needing to look for a job for a little bit more here.

1-18
This new Ellen Foster book is harder to read. Or maybe I'm different than when I read the first one over two years ago. So much love in this one. I open the door to my mother's home and though the decoration speaks to a certain warmness, you feel the cold. I walk into my father's home and I feel the regret. Where is the love? When will I walk into a house and feel love- of my own family. I can walk into Julia's or Bailey's house and feel a certain kind of love. But I want my home to have that.

Ted tells me he loves me more than anything. My secret? I can only say I love you. What is more than anything? I've come to realize I don't know what kind of love that is. I don't know what it feels like - from/to another adult. The children yes. In the words of Dar Williams, Julia will be the "one who knows." But adults- I don't know. Perhaps this is why so many times I prefer the company of myself?

I don't get it. And that's why I 've already put the books down. It hurts so much. My secret? I wish to grieve now. I'm in a public place, so no tears. But in words I can only feel- I feel my heart breaking. While the love of people who were once strangers to me fills part of my heart and makes the days more bearable...I still yearn for my family. I yearn for my family that will never be. Some day soon, I hope I can get over that and really begin to live my life.

1-1-06
t is the New Year and I feel…happy. I told Bobb a few weeks ago that I wanted to feel like before- when I woke up and I was happy. It is strange to consider that I may very well be happy because of all the changes I am now going through. I gave up hope on my mom, I am losing the company I helped to build…I am graduating and losing my school. Yet, still, I think I am happy for the most part. I do not despair anything or wish to hurt myself in some way. I have some friends, though I miss my best friend…and I have Ted who is gradually moving his way up on my friend list. I think we could use a few sessions with Bobb, but other than that I am pleased. I am working with five wonderful children and I know I will make it to work.

I worry now about sustaining all of this. As I told Bobb in an email…finding the right track has never been a problem…sustaining the right track will be the key. I need to make sure I have room for me…no more thinking I’m wasting time. But I need to spend quality time with myself, either with music, poetry or books. Cut out the TV watching. Make study time. I need to end this semester with the brains I know I have. I am capable of better grades…and just for myself, I’d like to prove it. I know I can be better all the way around- from school to work to friends. I have five months before a big change and I want to make it a darn good five months. Working out CD’s and everything. I “know” I can do this…now I just need to prove that I can do this.

And I need to work on myself- work on the parts I seldom visit but I know they are there. I am a narcissists daughter…I have narcissists tendencies whether I acknowledge them or not, they are there. I will face them, and I will make sure they have no bearing on my life.

I used to be the therapy patient who took months between realizing something and then doing it. That won’t be me anymore. I told my boss why wait for change, just do it now…I will do as I say. I think maybe I used to be super afraid of that change because I’d never done it before- I’d never been well. But just as the first depression taught me what future depressions could be like and what I could make it through…my brief venture into wellness taught me what wellness could be like…and how sweet life can indeed be. I am less afraid this time around I think. I am ready to change…I want to change. No matter what that means or what I have to face.

The feelings of joy far outweigh any moments in pain. They drive me to get better now- to find that again. I sat tonight listening to music and I know I found my kind of relaxation. I think I need to explain to Ted what music means to me. He started to say something tonight, “I’d rather have a good meal, some wine and friends than…” and he trailed off, but I bet he meant something about sitting listening to music. But for me…sometimes I honestly would prefer to go and listen to some great music even alone, than be in crowd of friends. Food does not relax me, neither does alcohol or sharing stories with friends. The music relaxes me and then it’s a bonus if a friend is with me. But just like I explained my connection to my town to him…I need to explain music. It’s not something I just enjoy doing…it calms me…recharges me…touches me at my soul. Some people can meditate, some can drink alcohol with friends…but I…I listen with every beat of my heart to the music. The weeks that I am able to catch a show- I notice that those are the weeks that I do pretty well mentally. And I need to begin to listen to more music in my room and read more poetry. I recently got my favorite author, Mary Oliver and it had such an effect on me. Just beautiful.

So that is where I am. I am relatively happy. You’d think otherwise considering my mom told me everything I wanted to hear, but I disregarded it and just accepted the way things were going to be: she will always be consistently inconsistent. I need to explain what music does to me to Ted…and I think he’ll respect what I say. Money worries me constantly, but somehow I keep the worry at bay.

Soon I get to house sit and really have alone time which I covet. I know myself now and I am very ready to face the world and hit the challenges head on. Bobb was pretty surprised that I am so ready for action, but I want to get back to the joy and that way of living. I am less afraid…I know I can do this. I can and I will.

So that is where I am:

Wanting to wake up in the morning and face the day. And to me, that means the world.

From The Return by Mary Oliver
3.
Two eggs rolled from the goose nest
down to the water and halfway into the water.
What good is hoping?
I went there softly, and gathered them
and put them back into the nest

of the goose who bit me hard with her
lovely black beak with the pink
tongue-tip quivering,

and beat my arms with her
lovely loing wings
and beat my face with her
lovely long wings,
what good is trying?
She hissed horribly, wanting me to be frightened.
I wasn't frightened.
I just knew it was over,
those cold white eggs would never hatch,

the birds would forget, soon, and go back
to the light-soaked pond,
what good is remembering?

But I wasn't frightened.

4.
Sometimes I really believe it, that I am going to save my life

a little.

1-1-06
This is my New Years Post:
I wanted to welcome the new members as we are about to begin a new year.

For old members, you may see some new things- I'm going to try and be more diligent about homework assignments...and better about answering posts.

It's been interesting to me, running this site for three years and the website for four. I always wondered how I would grow and change with the site. Probably within a month I will be engaged to be married which is just plain weird, and probably within two or three years it will be time for kids.

I once entertained the thought of ending this site...but that thought has long since faded- there is no way, period. I already told Ted that. This place has grown beyond just me and even if I can't always provide the help, someone is always able to here. It is just nice to go to a place where you are not judged...where we don't care where you came from or what you've done. We are glad you are here wanting help in some form or another. Even if you just lurk...you know that the one day you will need to reach out, there will be people there for you.

And to me, there is no greater feeling in the world- honestly. Like I always know Bobb will be there and Sam will be there and a few others- Laura, Ted etc. Through these tumultuous times...certain people have taught me to trust again. Even though that trust can be broken like my friend Joe did...it hurt but it wasn't the end of the world...I still have my friends.

Second Chances truly is a place for a second chance. Even for me. When I thought I would always suck at relationships, SC gave me a place to practice the skills Bobb would teach me. So please, be unafraid of trying out new things- like speaking your mind. Yes, sometimes, speaking your mind gets other people riled up...but to each their own you know? You are entitled to your thoughts, no matter what they may be. That can be so empowering and healing.

And many of you are learning that unless you tell us the kind of support you need, we won't know. As much as we would like to be, we are not mind readers. I've even fallen in that trap before. So we are not alone in these feelings.

So here is my message for this new year. Long winded as always :-) I truly care for you guys and this place. No matter how I may grow and change or what life may bring me...there will always be a Second Chances. This place is not just me...I just hit the button to start this place...you guys keep it alive and full of hope. You guys give each other a second chance every day...and that is where I see a miracle every day. Not just in the children I work with, but with all of you. How we have come together...though just about all of us come with a broken heart...we are able to love and care for each other...with all of our heart. Hold on to that and don't forget it. And I hope this year...will be the most healing of all.

Love,
Erin