Stream of consciousness.

[judecorp]

So today at work I got to have group with the 13-year-old girls. It's funny, I didn't like 13-year-old girls when I was one, and they didn't like me, but they like me now. Maybe it's because I'm older and alternative and therefore cool, or maybe I'm just a lot of fun. I don't know. I think I push the envelope in ways they wish they could, but junior high is such a time of conformity. All I know is that I don't understand them, but I adore them. They are great kids, very supportive of each other, very enthusiastic.

One of my girls told me that her 11-year-old brother is allowed to have pictures of girls in swimsuits on his walls, but her father won't let her hang up pictures of boys. She said it was sexist. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. It's a sad day when today's adolescents are fighting the same things they fought in the first wave.

I don't want to be a therapist forever. It's kind of fun, but it's not right for me. It just doesn't entirely fit, like slightly too small shoes. Therapy pinches. It's a lot easier, though, to say "I want to be a therapist" to my grandmother than "I want to be a superhero."

Mom still hasn't emailed me back. She complained when I was home that she didn't know anything about my life and I never talk to her. I told her she didn't really want to know. She said she did. When I got back here, I emailed her about New Years, Jennifer, and Christina. That was over a week ago. No reply. This is not surprising. Every time I've tried to tell this woman that I like girls, she's changed the subject. Four times in five years.

think spinning dizzy love confusion work work work school dreary apathy tired so very very tired phone calls in bed with the covers up and the lights down the girl art mystery wonder busy frantic airplane february wondering imagined? sigh sometimes thinking sucks.

I told my internship boss today that my life was great. He was amazed, he said, that after everything that happened, I would say I had a great life. He obviously doesn't know me well. :)

Tired. Slept at Binkie's. Couldn't sleep. No bedtime phone call. Dependent? Frightening.

Love.

Comments

dreary

[biophile6.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I think I just cant do anything productive anymore...that no one cares, that all the effort I put into reaching health care solutions through drug discovery and basic biology will never pan out. I know at these times that the meaning of it is to simply proceed, because its the best choice. And sometimes the best days are those in which I submit completely to the void of what I do. I help people. Somehow, I know that the pain I put into devising ways of knitting together knowledge will ease someone else's burden, and that keeps me going. Doing what I do, alone, at night, in a room alone, pouring myself into ways of reaching solutions.

Sometimes its overwhelming. But I've gotten good at getting up in the morning. Each day has been harder than it was before. Contrast this with graduate school, in which each day was filled with me rationalizing reasons to exist. Do I require much energy or encouragement to go on? No. I suspect the Smurf doesnt either. She's remarkable. Perhaps we should all read about how to push a rock up a hill, or just watch her.

Re: dreary

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

We all save the world in our own ways. Never doubt that what you're doing is important. Let me be your encouragement ~ I know you don't require much but I have a lot.

Did I ever tell you that my first seriously considered career (as in, fresh out of high school) was in neuroscience? My friend Jessica was going to go into pharmacy, and I was going to study neuroscience, and together we were going to make psychotropic medications. She's a pharmacist. A PhD. I was "Most Likely to Succeed," and sometimes I look around and think of the irony of the situation.

But then I hear from friends like you. But then I see things like this: I suspect the Smurf doesnt either. She's remarkable. Perhaps we should all read about how to push a rock up a hill, or just watch her. And I know I already have.

Thank you. I'm proud to call you a friend.

[indigodove.livejournal.com]

I don't want to be a therapist forever. It's kind of fun, but it's not right for me. It just doesn't entirely fit, like slightly too small shoes. Therapy pinches. It's a lot easier, though, to say "I want to be a therapist" to my grandmother than "I want to be a superhero."

In my former life as a social worker (funny how it already seems far away, yet sometimes I still think I'm just on vacation), I sometimes felt the same ways -- that the necessary ethics and boundaries prevented me from being completely myself with the kids. Teaching will have some of the same challenges, yet be different, I expect.

Good therapists are hard to find :-) Especially for kids. Even if you only do it for a couple of years, you will save more lives and do more good than you will ever be aware of. Sometimes simply by being kind to a child or parent who doesn't see much kindness. *hug*

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Sometimes I like reassurance that doing what I'm doing right now /is/ helping people. It's just not helping in the sort of gritty way I'd like to. But there are little ripples, that's true.

Thanks for the reminder. I still don't think I'm cut out to do it, though. I'm not good at it.

[indigodove.livejournal.com]

***BIG HUG***

Oh wow....this is so the way I felt! You are much better than you think, I'll bet. The problem with wanting to save the world (an urge I really understand) is that it is a frustrating job and one rarely sees the benefits. They are there. But they are small and hard to see -- especially because they may not be visible right away. But one of your 13 year old girls may someday make a choice based on her own strong sense of self-respect that has blossomed from a seed you planted.

We really need to meet someday :-)

On meeting.

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

I agree. Unfortunately, the next weekend I don't have commitments (mostly work-related, ugh) is Valentine's Day weekend, and I'm sure you and the Ralph will be celebrating. :) Maybe in March?

Gah. That sounds so awful.

Regardless, thank you. You are so very sweet.