Happy cats make for happy homes

adolescence Alabama beliefs blogging calm change Chicago crisis crushes dreams family fear flint hills food friends happiness health being a hippie holiday home internship kids loss love magic memories money music parties perfection plants projects relationships relaxation reminiscing ritual school social work issues spirits sports stress style the South violence weather weather worries writing



Go now. Go.

There’s something about Sunday night
that really makes you want to kill yourself
Subscribe to this blog
for e-mail updates

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

In the thick of it

I started seeing families this week. It seemed foolhardedly early, only my sixth day at the placement, but it was presented to me in a way that seemed inarguable. Well, I wasn't given much choice, no moment in which I could say, "wait, wait! Me a therapist??" I was just assigned cases.

My supervisor seems cold sometimes, but I think I'll thrive under her sparse tutelage. I'm getting the sense that she give superior guidance, but primarily expects me to to be able to do the work--to have confidence in what I'm doing. If anything, my previous experiences with supervisors have been the overly kind and generous type, which sometimes can crippled my self-confidence.

So my first family session, it didn't really go anywhere near the way that I planned. Aside from that, it went amazingly better than I expected. I waded into the family fight and said, "Stop! Stop yelling!" . . . about fifty times. I held up my hand when their tangents drifted far afield and brought them (sort of) back on topic. And at the end of it, no arguments were resolved, and I expect they'll continue more of the same next week, but I could tell they didn't resent me for being forceful with them, and I know they'll be back. Next time, I won't let them argue, and I believe they'll respect me more for it and feel more comfortable with me.

(It's a strange feeling, raising my voice in a therapeutic setting, and wondering if it's the right thing to do. It's contrary in my mind, as I compare that session with every counseling session I've ever been in (as a patient). Therapy is quiet and reflective, not filled with hollering. But it's different with families in crisis, and I know I did the right thing--now just need more of it.)

Today I was supposed to see two more families. One didn't show up, and the other called to reschedule. I think it was a good lesson for me. I was nervous. I had prepared--writing down how I wanted the session to go--but I was still antsy, not knowing exactly what to expect from people whose problems I'd only read about on a police incident report. Then to not have them show up--. I realized it was pointless to worry about it ahead of time.

This feels real. Like a job I really could hold. That while I might be clinically--and hopelessly--inexperienced, I know how to connect to people, which might be the most important thing of all.



Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger.
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com