Wow. The night after that last blog, I was thinking to myself how I wish I was a crier. Something in me was wishing there was an outlet for frustrations and stressors to get out. I watched a comedy with my boyfriend, and a the end (being delirious with fatigue) I was commenting on a funny joke. However, the moment I would get to describing the part I was referring to, I would start hysterically craking up with no reason. The laugher turned into tears streaming down my face, which then turned into actual crying with manic laughter interspurced. It was a strange moment, but let me know that there is something I am not doing to help me release my anxiety. I think, as tired as I am at the end of my week, it would be wise for me to find time to exercise.
Things are better. I got paid today and if I budget wisely, I should be able to pay rent and continue on, although a few extra hundred dolalrs would be nice. oh well. Times will be tight, but at least I have a few days to catch up on work. I think if I really stick to time management, this semester will be over before I know it.
I also got to see clients for the first time Wednesday, and it went over quite well! It's going to be a process to adjust to comfort levels, and when to be assertive, how to structure the session, etc. But so far, so good. I think I have established open communication and have begun to lay a foundation for mutual trust. I'm gonig to get the hang of my process recordings, shich seem to be a means of monitoring transference. It's going to be a good learning tool, but also seems difficult to get started. Who can remember verbatim what is discussed in an hour and a half session? I think i'ts counter productive to be scribbling down every word just to record later as well.
It also surprises me that I haven't met resistence with anyone yet. It seems a lot of people really need an outlet for talk, sometimes to the point of aggressively chattering as if they have no one ot talk to at all when they aren't at program, which sadly could be true. I will be careful what I wish for, however. I'm sure there will be some tough nuts to crack.
more later.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Broke....and complaining.
Ugh.. This sucks. I'm exhausted, and all I can think about is wondering how the hell I am going to pay my rent along with bills and eating. It's a little sick that eating is the first thing I can scale back on without financial turmoil to follow, let's not mention health consequences. I find myself wondering how many days in a row I can eat oatmeal 3 meals a day, or afford a 6" sandwich from subway. I haven't eaten a vegetable in days, and god knows I'll probably get fat due to zero time to exercise. Also, the shittiest food imaginable is also the cheapest, so if I get really hungry and need a "meal" for $3, that may be my only option.
I'm also too exhausted and pissed/depressed to make good use of my time today as I sit agenda-less at FP. And the neighborhood is getting to me. I can't walk down the street without seeming to upset someone for my mere presence. I can't afford to do the laundry either. And, my school loans are a fucking trap and require me to make a payment due to slow "processing time" in my deferment papers, but I guess I wasn't looking for someone to be reasonable in THAT department. This sucks. It's 4 weeks in and I already am burned out. The real work hasn't even started to get going yet. But I said I was going to do this, so I guess I just have to be miserable for the next two years. Miserable and broke.
I'm also too exhausted and pissed/depressed to make good use of my time today as I sit agenda-less at FP. And the neighborhood is getting to me. I can't walk down the street without seeming to upset someone for my mere presence. I can't afford to do the laundry either. And, my school loans are a fucking trap and require me to make a payment due to slow "processing time" in my deferment papers, but I guess I wasn't looking for someone to be reasonable in THAT department. This sucks. It's 4 weeks in and I already am burned out. The real work hasn't even started to get going yet. But I said I was going to do this, so I guess I just have to be miserable for the next two years. Miserable and broke.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
MSW Internship-and the beginnig of my social work career.
The first few weeks of school have been hectic, but good so far. I am trying to maintain my sanity with my CONSTANT running to class, to FP (filed placement) straight to work until midnight or after and repeat. I work, have class hours and attend FP for about 56+ hours a week, plus homework and research. It leaves very little time for fully focusing and truly absorbing reading, but I think as themes and theories are compounded by life experience, fp, and research, they will sink in more. I am enjoying the curriculum, and the course load seems manageable if I buckle down every spare moment. I hope my friends don't disown me, but there will be little time for leisurely dates.
My FP is at a small agency uptown that deals with finding services for clients on parole, work-release or recently having served a full sentence. We find housing, services, and provide group work support for relapse prevention and anger management, and provide general counseling and support. I hope to take advantage of my contact hours as much as possible and hope to establish myself as a dedicated and caring worker. The staff is young and very relaxed, fun and encouraging, so I feel at home already. Direct care really provides a forum for that. I think the work deals so much with people and caring that it is emotionally straining enough for people to impose strict rules and not act like a family anyway with their common compassion for the clients.
I also value the fact that I am working in Harlem, and within a short subway ride become a minority in a neighborhood that prides itself on its people, sometimes to the point of making their neighborhood minorities uncomfortable, or unwanted feeling. I accept the challenge and keep my head held high, feeling empathy for the fact that for these residents, this microcosm I thrive in for a few hours a week is possibly their global reality.
Wow. I just sat in on my first real day of interacting with clients. Working with this new population I think is going to be wonderful, and trying, and full of falter and learning. Even though I knew to be cautious of it, I've already been struck with the realization that I need to discard any pretenses and just be myself if I am to be affective with these clients. I surely took in more than I can put into words today, and I'm sure there will be lots of observations to follow. I found the familiar comfort that I found working with the MR/DD population, people in need are people in need, and there aren't a particular set of gloves to handle them with. The underlying draw of empathy and desire to provide care usurps any preconceived notions of marginalized populations, and it is such a liberating thing to experience.
Sitting in the anger management group, everyone went around to say something about themselves. Some shared more than others, and some went into real detail about their depression and loss in the past few months. I listened actively, but felt a bit helpless, wanting to be able to say something magical or offer something. Then, I was kinda put on the spot by the facilitator and nervously tried to offer something to a participant. It's going to be a long way to go before I feel like I'm am in the green and am free to speak and have something of value to offer.
After the ice was broken, the second group, relapse prevention, was much better for me. I felt accepted, and the group made a point to invite me in. I felt proud of them, they were strong and supportive and really on each others' sides. At one point, someone got emotional and everyone was cheering him on, proclaiming their love, and one man got up to embrace him. As I sat next to him, I resisted the urge to rub his back like I would one of my MR/DD guys. It was really beautiful to see the common strength of the group supporting their peer. Human strength and beauty truly reside in us all, no matter how we are labeled or what mistakes we have made. It makes me value life more. Value freedom, and choice and acceptance. Well, time for sleep now, btu more reflection to come.
My FP is at a small agency uptown that deals with finding services for clients on parole, work-release or recently having served a full sentence. We find housing, services, and provide group work support for relapse prevention and anger management, and provide general counseling and support. I hope to take advantage of my contact hours as much as possible and hope to establish myself as a dedicated and caring worker. The staff is young and very relaxed, fun and encouraging, so I feel at home already. Direct care really provides a forum for that. I think the work deals so much with people and caring that it is emotionally straining enough for people to impose strict rules and not act like a family anyway with their common compassion for the clients.
I also value the fact that I am working in Harlem, and within a short subway ride become a minority in a neighborhood that prides itself on its people, sometimes to the point of making their neighborhood minorities uncomfortable, or unwanted feeling. I accept the challenge and keep my head held high, feeling empathy for the fact that for these residents, this microcosm I thrive in for a few hours a week is possibly their global reality.
Wow. I just sat in on my first real day of interacting with clients. Working with this new population I think is going to be wonderful, and trying, and full of falter and learning. Even though I knew to be cautious of it, I've already been struck with the realization that I need to discard any pretenses and just be myself if I am to be affective with these clients. I surely took in more than I can put into words today, and I'm sure there will be lots of observations to follow. I found the familiar comfort that I found working with the MR/DD population, people in need are people in need, and there aren't a particular set of gloves to handle them with. The underlying draw of empathy and desire to provide care usurps any preconceived notions of marginalized populations, and it is such a liberating thing to experience.
Sitting in the anger management group, everyone went around to say something about themselves. Some shared more than others, and some went into real detail about their depression and loss in the past few months. I listened actively, but felt a bit helpless, wanting to be able to say something magical or offer something. Then, I was kinda put on the spot by the facilitator and nervously tried to offer something to a participant. It's going to be a long way to go before I feel like I'm am in the green and am free to speak and have something of value to offer.
After the ice was broken, the second group, relapse prevention, was much better for me. I felt accepted, and the group made a point to invite me in. I felt proud of them, they were strong and supportive and really on each others' sides. At one point, someone got emotional and everyone was cheering him on, proclaiming their love, and one man got up to embrace him. As I sat next to him, I resisted the urge to rub his back like I would one of my MR/DD guys. It was really beautiful to see the common strength of the group supporting their peer. Human strength and beauty truly reside in us all, no matter how we are labeled or what mistakes we have made. It makes me value life more. Value freedom, and choice and acceptance. Well, time for sleep now, btu more reflection to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
