My blog is funny, interesting and touches on all kinds of topics. There’s a surprise in every post. Enjoy!Continue reading
I feel so powerless. This is problematic when going after a Masters in Social Work. How can I do this work if I feel nothing will ever come of it? I am too small, insignificant…so many other competing evil powers over my head.Continue reading
I went to my psych’s office Thursday for the first appointment after two months. That’s after a few years – first as a high risk, suicidal patient, then later as things changed, I made some things change, got better on newer meds, got more stable over all. I was happy to be there again, because a lot has gone on this first quarter of grad school. I was telling him about that stuff and about a half hour in he says is there anything else I want to talk about because he has something he needs to tell me. I was intrigued so I told him to tell me. And he said he’s been recruited into this new primary care program and won’t be seeing any more patients in the mental health building – he has to get rid of his entire caseload. It was devastating news. He said he was feeling a pretty strong emotional reaction over the whole thing too, but I was the one who started crying. It’s not like I haven’t cried in his office before. Sometimes I’m bawling and freaking out. But this was a just sit there, silent, what-can-I-do-absolutely-nothing kind of cry. And we just sat in silence.
He made one more appointment for me in December. I have to process this somehow. Get to the point of accepting it. I never imagined this would happen. All this time, all this work. All over. I never thought there would come a time I would just be cut off. Once I tried to cut myself off but I was pretty manic at the moment and came back again.
There is this one social worker who helped me before, and he’s asking her if she’ll take me on. He said the other male doctors have really full caseloads and that makes me wonder why they’re taking him away – where will all his patients go?
I only wanted to stop by and mention this. I have to go to class now. At least I have distractions. I have plenty of work to do. But that trickles back into my mind and makes me deflate.
I am pleased with my progress this first quarter of grad school. I am nearly done with two intense research projects, made a video playing a social worker conducting a clincial interview and made another video for a classmate using me as a client, wrote several short papers on ethics and professional development, gave a presentation on a social policy current event, and have yet to create two large research posters and present on them. That’s what I’m up to my eyeballs in – final research and writing on two large projects. I am ahead of many in my class – today was the day we were to bring in the rought draft of a literature review, or at least what we have so far. I have nearly a finished copy – I need to correct some APA errors, add a few sentences to my discussion and conclusion, and label my sections with headings. It’s beautiful. My grades are beautiful so far. There is also two more quizzes to take, but no real finals to speak of. (Again, big writing/research projects). Definitely over the hump at this point. One down, five to go. Quarters that is. I’ll start taking electives in the spring and summer. I’m registered for winter – three classes instead of four because we start practicum. I’m STILL trying to get a practicum. I’m on my fourth agency, and I interview Thursday.
This is a piece of some of the philospohy I’ve developed when asked why I do what I do:
We are all evil. Humans are evil, individuals. We have the ability to be good, but are inherently evil. It takes work to be good, it’s easy to be bad. I know I am evil, I see it every day. I first noticed it when I was around ten, and it scared the hell out of me. Now I’m used to it. Since then it’s always been there, always kind of festered. Sometimes I indulge it by engaging in what are considered risk taking behaviors – I’ve extensively experimented with drugs, been arrested for the breaking of certain laws, cheated on a test, and hurt people in fights. And lots and lots of other rotten things. Some things I don’t want to mention. I also like watching violence, horror, terror, gore and sick and twisted shit in movies and shows. I find it extremely satisfying - wanton displays of evil, darkness, and any kind of disturbing content. I know the evil is there, and real, and a part of me. It’s a part of all of us. You’re a liar if you deny it.
To get as far away from evil as you can, you must serve others. There is no higher honor or virtue. To combat the evil, I do this. It can’t be stated any more clearly and simply than that.
The process of getting the Winnebago here and registered in George’s name, with updated tags, got done today. I’m surprised we got it all done in one day but I’m glad we did because I want to get other stuff done tomorrow, like get my hair chopped and get more propane. George will be busy with Steven getting the thing running again, charging batteries and whatnot. He’s already put up curtains around the numerous windows. It gets dark at 4 in the afternoon now, there’s not much one can do further, as far as engine work goes. Plus it’s freezing cold. The wind has been really gusting out there. But it’s his, and fully legal too. It cost 150 bucks to get it registered with new tabs, and it won’t be much cheaper next year. But it’s a place he can call home which sounds pathetic but it’s his dream, so don’t judge. And it frees my house up for ME again!
I cleaned extensively after we dealt with George’s new abode. I made a frozen pizza as I got the water running, it takes time to heat. The pizza was awful and I’m never buying a frozen pizza again because I’m always disappointed. I live pretty frugally, I’ve realized. If the water has to pump awhile before it gets warm, well…most people just aren’t used to that. No electricity for heat either. Anyway, I just wanted water with which to clean and normally wouldn’t care, in the summer it’s just cold water, but in the winter it’s too cold to be able to stand it. So I was thinking again about all the time I spend cleaning when I am home – normally I’m at work or school – and wondered if George and others are right when they say I have real OCD – not like when people say it flippantly, like “oh I’m so OCD about this or that or whatever…” but actual clinical OCD, something that can be diagnosed. I always doubted it and if someone accused me of it would totally deny it. Would be like “oh yeah right, I’m not scared of germs.” Because I’m not – I don’t wash my hands excessively or sanitize things excessively or shit like that. I’m into neatness. Everything has its place. I like my floors swept and mopped, I hate it when dishes are in my sink, and it drives me nuts when there’s shit on my coffee table other than the two items I’ve deemed worthy of being on the coffee table full time. And I know when I say “I’m not afraid of germs” that I’m just diverting attention away from how this OCD manifests, if it is real. Which I still don’t think it is. I just think I’m a big neat freak. And maybe George is not, because he can’t keep up with my neatness obsession. So to conclude with that tirade, my house is REALLY clean right now! (But not very warm).
It was a long and wonderful four nights off. I have so much work to do in the next couple weeks but I’ve done all the research I can – now it’s compiling it and writing it, some of which I’ve already done. My backpack is heavy not with books so much as research. I am still fighting for a practicum spot, didn’t get my first three, now I’m trying the fourth. It’s a counseling outfit, and would be admittedly ideal when I want to get licensed in a couple years and need clinical hours. It is totally clinical, so it does have that going for it. I haven’t sent my resume yet. I am so tired of being yanked around in the whole process. I’m still pretty devastated I didn’t get the jail position. I emailed back asking why for my own professional development – really, the email was nice and professional – but all I got back was a “you seem really great, sorry again we didn’t pick you” email, and no actual feedback or criticism or anything. It was weird.
So I have failed again, twice in a row…I did not get the jail job. Hell, it wasn’t even a job, just an unpaid, 16 hour a week internship as part of masters program requirements. I checked my email last night at work and there was the news…and then I promptly ran outside to smoke and cry and hide. Never let the residents see you cry. I’m still so bummed. I have to go in to see the coordinator after class in the afternoon, and all I intend to say is I don’t care where I go anymore. There is nothing left I want on the list of available practicum sites. I have been blown off my course and there’s nothing I can do about it. It will be hard enough to fake it in the interviews for wherever they send me next – I have to make them think I want to be there, when I really don’t. They’ll ask me where I see myself in the next five years or however that question goes and I have to somehow answer in a more pleasing way than just “I want to work at the jail, not here.”
This has been harder than a normal job hunt which is laughable considering we won’t be getting paid and are only working 16 hours a week the first quarter practicum begins. I am so sick of jumping through fiery hoops only to get no results. What a waste of time, effort, and confidence. I feel like I fucking suck, even though cognitively I know I don’t. And plus all the fun is gone from something that was exciting me.
But disappointment, I know, is a hard fact of life. This is just yet another one. Lay down and take it.
I did email them back after I got their rejection email to ask why – I felt everything went so well. I nailed both interviews, was building a good rapport, even prisoners there recognized me since I’ve been in this field for so long. How awesome was that other person they picked over me? Or did I do or say something that made them pick the other person over me? I need to know.
As some of you know, best friend and little brother George has been staying with me essentially ever since he got out of jail. With his felony record and lack of education, lack of job history and general disadvantage when it comes to socioeconomic status, he is homeless with little prospects for meaningful work or education. He can’t even get financial aid should he want education. All incentive to rehabilitate from criminal ways is stripped away by the very system that says “don’t do that, you must rehabilitate.” Doesn’t make sense. Anyway, this wasn’t meant to be a political rant, I’ll post a lengthy research paper on the topic later, the point of this post was to emphasize his homelessness and extreme disadvantage relative to me and most of the other professionals with which I work. We stand in stark contrast to each other. I can’t just have him leave – he has no where to go. I can’t just drop him off at the shelter – I think that would be even worse as far as his development and ability to stay out of trouble goes. So the next idea was to set him up in an apartment assuming he could find a job and pay the rent. He doesn’t want to do that, doesn’t want to pay anyone rent. Plus there’s the unspoken fact no one wants to give felons work. He has always wanted a bus or motor home he can make his own, without ever paying anyone rent. AND I FOUND ONE!!
It’s a 1969 Winnebago, fully outfitted with a furnace, stove, TV and stereo, bed, household supplies like dishes, a couch, and other stuff. It runs which is important – we need to be able to move it around and George wants to be able to take it to barter fair. George has no idea I’m doing this which is the other nice thing. I’m getting this Winnebago for only 1200, even though it’s worth a lot more, because a longtime family friend is selling it to me after he heard me pitch the idea. He really likes the idea and did the exact same thing with it for quite a while that George will be doing. The reason he’s giving it to me for so cheap is also because then I have extra money for any tune-ups, fluids, engine checks it might need, stuff like that. Also, we need to get George his driver’s license.
So I am stoked. I’m going to get my house back and George will finally have a home to call his own. The Winnebago itself should be here at the house by Thursday. He’s going to just shit himself!