Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts

Friday, February 15, 2013

The Eruption by Jen Abbas at age 18

divorce
is like a trembling earthquake
the world shakes
rumbling with rage
and all the anger
guilt
and all the frustrations
that have been festering for so long
below the surface
suddenly spew upward
in an inferno of hate
or apathy...
at times
the earth calms
and you think
the turmoil is over
settled
stable
but
then the cycle begins again
repeating
repeating
repeating
you are weary
you want to rest
and that is when you realize
the shaking has stopped
but
there is an eerie feeling
lurking in the air
you are hestitant to believe
anything
anymore
you are so tired
after struggling for so long
and so you rest
on the last solid patch of land
only to watch it split in two
two
separate
distinct
parts
that will never
come together
again
each new patch
supports part of you
and as you watch
they pull away.


Tuesday, January 08, 2013

Discipline

Not gonna lie, I have a hard time with self-discipline sometimes. Homework before fun stuff, take Luna on a walk every day, read instead of watching a show before bed... little things like this which would be better choices... They aren't bad choices, maybe just not the best in that moment.

I've started reading The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck again. He's a very insightful man who talks about a lot of stuff that I've seen in my life and the lives of the kids I work with. The latest chapter on discipline has really opened my eyes to what they deal with in their homes. At The Relatives, we get kids anywhere from 7 to 17 years of age who are homeless, who have run away from home, who have safety concerns at home due to a wide variety of issues, behavioral issues, kids who are between foster care placements, etc. I will more than likely never see these kids again once my internship is done, but I will always remember the stories.

One kid in particular stood out in my mind while reading this chapter on discipline. But before I get to him, let me get into the chapter a little more. Peck basically says we discipline ourselves if we feel we are valuable, if we feel our time is valuable. We learn this value by watching our parents, how they discipline themselves,  how they discipline us, how they love us. He talks about how children learn through consistent interaction with their parents how to behave, what is appropriate and inappropriate, etc. (Really, in order to get the full idea, go get the book. I highly recommend it anyway.)

It's a little difficult to explain why this brough specific clients to mind, but basically, we see so many kids who are undisciplined and disrespectful and don't care to behave otherwise. Their sense of correct behavior is just as strong as mine, which entails respect, honesty, empathy, etc. The 17 year old who thought it was okay to make fun of a 13 year old boy just because he laughed at the jokes didn't understand why his behavior was unacceptable. I had to explain that just because someone is laughing, it doesn't mean he actually thinks it's funny. Something which seems so basic and common sense to me was a foreign concept to him, probably because his parents modeled disrespectful behavior infront of him.

I think of another client who's mother didn't want to deal with him anymore, so she went to the magistrate to have him involuntarily committed to the behavioral health center (the inpatient and outpatient mental health and behavioral facility). The sherriff's office came to pick  him up, and they took him out to the squad car in front of all the other clients and staff and 20 something volunteers. They didn't even let him eat the homemade meal the volunteers spent all day preparing. What kind of message does that send to this 15 year old? "Your mother doesn't want you anymore, so she's having you admitted to a mental health facility, even though there's nothing wrong with you." And the worst part about it, the sherriff explained to him that he didn't do anything wrong, he wasn't in trouble. He replied, "Oh, I know. I've been through this before." When I heard that, my heart broke. What on earth had this kid been through for him to learn at such an early age that he cannot count on his mother to be there for him, that he's on his own. The only person he can depend on is himself. After 15 years of consistent emotional, physical, mental neglect, what else should he be expected to believe?

I'm beginning to realize even the small decisions are important when it comes to discipline. Delayed gratification, mentally, emotionally, and physically caring for myself, caring for others... I will spend time on what I feel to be important, and since I have such an incredibly limited amount of time with these kids, I feel a great urgency to spend my time loving them. It's not my job to fix them or make them respect eachother. It's my job to love them. If I can model appropriate behavior infront of them, maybe then they'll realize there's a different way of behaving which may be healthier in the long run. If that means disciplining myself by doing little things like waking up the first time my alarm goes off or taking daily walks, then I think that's a very small price to pay.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Raw

My parents got a divorce a couple months ago after being married for 37 years. They were my "go-to" marriage, my role models. I knew marriage could work because they'd had hard times and had worked through it.

And yet here we are...

How do you grieve the loss of what you always believed something to be? I, personally, have no idea...

So under the rug it goes. Or maybe on top, and I roll up the rug and put it in the attic. Out of sight, out of mind, out of my heart. And yet, as things always do, it caught up to me. The rug rolled itself right over to that pull down ladder, which fell open... on my head, and my heart.

The hard part is that I understand why they got a divorce. I get it. It makes total sense to me, and I'm not angry at them. But I am angry. I'm hurting. I don't know how to grieve.

So many defenses have kicked in. I don't want to deal with it. Not that it'll make it go away, cause it won't. But I cannot make my heart understand the logic in my head. And maybe one of the worst things about all this is how disillusioned I've become. Cynical, jaded. For now, I refuse to go through what they went through. I'd rather be single than put myself in a situation where I'd end up getting a divorce. (As my therapist said, "Wouldn't we all?" Isn't that just a given? If we knew the outcome of everything, we would choose not to go through most of life for fear of hurt.)

My point is this... I know in my head that I am not my parents. I know my experiences are not and will not be the same as theirs. But try telling that to my heart right now.

I went to my therapist a couple days ago for the first time in almost a year. I didn't resolve anything, and now instead of not feeling anything, I feel raw and vulnerable... As if someone's ripped the bandaid off the gaping wound to flush it out, dry it out. I know healing takes time. Time and pain. This is just a pain that doesn't go away. Even in the best and happiest of moods, it lingers in the background whispering to my insecurities and cynicism.

But as healing also goes, however, I know with time the pain will lessen. It won't go away, I'll just become accustomed to it.