In training

My loneliness is delicately wrapped in a thick layer of anger.  So thick that I can't even get to the feelings of being alone.

During one of our walks yesterday afternoon, my dear pregnant best friend let me vent, yell, scream, and then eventually cry as I talked about my feelings of injustice. For my work, I screen clients to come into our clinic for mental health services.  There are certain cases we can't take, like actively suicidal clients or those with long-standing, pervasive life-time disorders.  It isn't because we don't want them, it's because we offer a training clinic with students who just can't provide that kind of service.

So, last week, I might have approved a client that is a little-more-severe.  Rather than talk to me about it and discuss this issue collaboratively and with the client's need in-mind, a supervisor sent a very task-oriented email to say: "I saw this person's file and it's too severe.  Refer them elsewhere and schedule another person in instead."

I'm pretty sure that was when I started to see red. First of all, it was incredibly difficult to have to think about telling this client she can no longer come. Secondly, this supervisor's attitude pissed me off-- majorly.  People who seek counseling services are people in distress.  They are not packages that you refund, exchange, and then re-order.  These are people with feelings, emotions, distress, and pain.  And they are needing help.  How dare she use such a flippant tone about a client who obviously is severe in her condition and needing help.

My sense of injustice made me see red all day. I tried to look at other options and to make this decision be more than looking at her paperwork.  How about her tone of voice? How about the circumstances leading up to her being severe?  Don't you want to know more about this person other than her paperwork? My suggestions made no difference.  In the end, I was forced to refer this person elsewhere AND I'm now requested to attend a meeting next week to talk about how I'm screening people.

Ah, meetings. I guarantee you this meeting is going to be a blame-fest.  And honestly, I don't think I did anything wrong. PERHAPS I shouldn't have given this client the OK.  But I did, so shouldn't I be supported in my clinical judgment?  And if I'm not supported, then shouldn't we dialogue about what to do with this client other than discard her altogether and move on? All I want to do is scream in this supervisor's face and call her out for her self-serving, non-compassionate, demeaning treatment of people. See? Anger.

After a lot of processing with my intuitive and compassionate friend, she helped me to see that my anger stems from robbed of my values.  I told someone they can come for services and I gave them my word.  I GAVE THEM MY WORD! Then I had to take it back not because I believed in what was being done, but by force and by the difference in power. I HAVE to do what this supervisor says regardless of how little respect I have for her.  She sucks, to say the least.  Nothing in our decision-making process was collaborative, empowering, or even focused on the needs of the client. And me?  She treated me like some minion who must follow her command without a) gathering information about the client other than paperwork and b) explaining to me why we were not able to see her.

I realize that this work experience highlights my loneliness in a different domain. It's normal and expected for me to recruit and screen a bunch of clients for our clinic.  That reflects well on the clinic and gives everyone pride. But if ever something goes wrong, my head is on the chopping block.  I'm blamed and I'm given the entire responsibility without anyone even bothering to explain/educate/train me.  It sucks because I'm a student that is IN-TRAINING.

A more official title for me would be that I'm going through life "in-training".

Being see-through

Insecurities.

Who doesn't have them?

Mine comes in the form of feeling hollow.  Being seen through.  Give me an unnatural silence in a social situation and i will feel the need to fill it.  Anyone interacting with me knows that I bring laughter, fun, joy, and optimism to any situation.  That is truly a part of who i am, but i think there's also another part.  A part that is uncomfortable with lack of laughter, lack of fun, lack of joy, lack of optimism. I need it. And I anticipate others needing it. Therefore, I make sure to provide it.

Are some insecurities are better than others?  I have friends who often ask me afterwards if they broke some sort of social "rule" when we are out meeting others.  Did they over-interpret something that they shouldn't have?  Should they have focused less on this topic and discussed another instead?  Did they appear overly defensive in the moment or did they look perfectly normal in the circumstance?

I never have these problems of looking uncomfortable in public.  In fact, I am generally flawless in social situations, and able to put anyone at ease.  My number one goal (probably subconscious) is to make sure others are comfortable. If people aren't feeling good in social interactions, then that is a major problem.  It means that  a) their needs aren't being met and/or b) they can see through me that I am not able to meet their needs. So, I take pride in making others comfortable. Even if it means that I sometimes have to fill awkward silences, change to more comfortable topics, and crack lame jokes to cut the tension in the room.  I do it for them: for friends, acquaintances, and sometimes even strangers.  I do it for me, so friends, acquaintances, and strangers won't realize that I actually don't know what I'm doing and that I can't save them from being uncomfortable.

That's the role that I give myself, I suppose: a savior.  If they realize I'm NOT a savior, that I'm merely a mortal being like them, then it's over. I'm busted.  I'm caught. They'll see right through to me.
How exhausting this has been, always being 5 steps ahead of everyone else trying to protect them from being uncomfortable. Perhaps my whole life I've thought of myself as being a savior, trying to have control to make sure everyone is feeling peachy-keen.

But what about me? I want to be peachy-keen and not have to worry about how others are thinking, feeling, perceiving, interpreting.  I want to just be and let whatever happens, well... happen.

us & you ≠ me?

In a healthy relationship, me + you = us, and

1) me = me
2) you = you
3) us = us

In MY relationships, I have never thought about this formula and have blurred the boundaries so that

1) me = you
2) you = you
3) us = you


So during and after a relationship, I end up screwed because there isn't "me" anywhere in the equation. I lose my sense of identity, my sense of self-concept, and my entire sense of worthiness. When there is no longer an "us", it feels automatic to believe that there is no longer a "me" as well.

So this is a wake-up call for me to start understanding that relationships and identities should not be so enmeshed.  I'm working on reminding myself that:

there is you.
there is me.
and there is us.

me ≠ you.

me ≠ us.

me = me.

Q: Ah, but what if we break-up one day?
A: Well, there will still be me.  there will still be you.  there just won't be an us. But that's OK because me can survive.  and so will you. we just won't be doing it together. We will persevere and sooner or later we will find ourselves in another equation with other "me"s and other "you"s.

Q: Are you sure me will survive us breaking up?
A: me should not dissolve just because us dissolves.  Me existed even before us came along!  Regardless of what happens to us, me exists: in body, mind, spirit, in time, and in space.  me has a life to live and can continue onward with the journey. It may feel like there is nothing left in this world, but me does not have to melt away and dissipate.  me can move on even if us doesn't move on.

Q: Move on to what?
A: To whatever it is me wants!  To meet a you that has the same value as me. To interact with you a you that makes us healthy together and apart.

Q: But me doesn't even know where to begin. What does me want?  Me is so good at adapting to any kind of situation and any type of you you. me is a chameleon that can blend into any backdrop! me wants to make you happy.

A: But is me happy? Ever? Who is me?  What does me want? What does me believe in?  What are me's hopes and dreams? What actually makes me happy? And what is unacceptable for me?

Q: Me don't know...
A: This is the perfect time to find out.

Tears of relief?

After writing my last journal entry about Don and about fantasizing our future, I wrote an email to him to apologize for having disappeared when I was in my relationship with B.  I didn't say email/call me back, and I wasn't expecting any sort of reply. In truth I was letting go of what-could-be with him (friendship or otherwise) and I wanted to say sorry at the very least and also wish him the best.

Well, Don wrote back this weekend and I just read his email.  He asked how I'm doing these days and also apologized for not responding sooner because he's just so swamped with work.  And then he also wrote this (which made me cry just a little):

"You have nothing to apologize for. It's a part of life that friends tend to lose touch for different reasons, but it doesn't mean you stop being friends.  We both have probably been busy with this thing called life, with the various things in it -- it can occupy a lot of time and make you lose track of things, time, or people.  By all means don't think you did anything wrong because you didn't." 

I feel a bit moved by his words, and I feel enveloped in his compassion and understanding.  It's been awhile since I've felt that, since my previous relationships have been mostly criticisms and lack of respect for difference.  Most of my ex-boyfriends have been negative, pessimistic, and lacking validation and empathy.  So, it comes as a HUGE surprise to me to get this kind of response.

Must. give. myself. reality. check. though.  I am NOT going to fantasize a reunion with him this time.  Or impose some kind of "what if" about being more than friends.  I'm just going to take it as-it-is, and appreciate his understanding and friendship.  His response is a corrective experience for me. Perhaps in future relationships, (platonic or romantic) I won't anticipate someone leaving and cutting it off prematurely.  And perhaps I won't always feel like having to apologize to try to fix whatever rupture I think has happened.

One thing's for sure, Don is still such a positive influence in my life, swooping in to save the day, or more accurately, save me from me.