I have been practicing therapy in some capacity for almost five years now. First in grad school, then as a Functional Family Therapist, and now as a school-based therapist. In the grand scheme of things, that's not very long. In many ways, I still feel very ill equipped to deal with some of the things that are brought into my office, and I know that I have much to learn as I continue on in my career. (That's why they call it practice, eh?) The thing with therapy is that you can never be fully prepared for things clients might bring to you. Each case is different. No two kids/families are alike. Even within the same families, there are different perspectives and dynamics. One of the reasons my job never gets boring. There's always something new coming up, a new challenge to conquer.
I have to wonder though, if I have come to see clients more as challenges than as people. I feel in some ways as if I have been jaded in my short time dealing with the problems of others. I went into this field because I feel for people, because I wanted to be able to help them through difficult times, help them to find ways to cope and to see things in a new and more hopeful light. To be able to improve their world even in just a small way, and thereby help improve the worlds of others as well. The ripple effect and all that. But again, I wonder, have the past few years built up a wall? Have I become someone heartless in all my magic therapist wand waving? Has the challenge of solving everyone's problems started to dehumanize the people with whom I work?
This isn't a new question. I have often had people ask me if it's ever hard to hear the things I hear. I have to be honest with them when I say, no, typically I can distance myself. Uncomfortable, sometimes, yes, but it doesn't do the client any good if I go to pieces when they're telling me their story. The other day, though, I went to talk to one of the teachers about a student who will be starting in her class. I wanted to let her know about some very traumatic things that have happened recently and are still happening, so that she would be prepared to deal with a kid who has the potential to act out when things are tough at home, but who is such a sweet kid otherwise. As I was talking, the teacher dropped to her seat, hand on her heart, and listened with tears in her eyes. She was truly feeling all this trauma that I was explaining to her, and it brought me up short. I don't remember when the last time was I truly let myself feel like that for one of my clients. So what does that mean?
This is where I have always been torn. I care about my clients. A lot. I will fight for them with parents, teachers, other therapists, whoever, to do what is best for them. But I can't honestly say I spend a lot of time thinking about them outside of work. They cross my mind, as surely as any other coworkers or acquaintances with whom I come into contact regularly. But they rarely even enter my dreams. Sometimes that has made me feel uncaring and, yes, heartless. I have talked to other therapists who care so deeply for their clients that they dream about them constantly. But would that be helpful, for me, or for them? I don't think so. I have had to build that boundary, that wall, to keep out the emotions that could drag me down and prevent me from doing my job, which is to help clients and families work through their trauma. How can I help them if I am feeling traumatized myself?
I worry, though, that this is leaking into my personal life as well. How do you separate how you operate in your career from how you operate the rest of the time? They are bound to overlap. I don't have the answer. I just pray that I am not becoming as heartless as I sometimes feel.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Back in the day
When I was younger, I always hated it when adults would talk about how fast time was going. For me, it was going sooo slooowww!!! A week seemed like an eternity, especially if I was looking forward to something. However, I have now become one of those old lady types who constantly comments on how fast time is moving. I am shocked when I realize that my youngest niece will be three next week, or that my oldest niece will be in first grade already. My nephew starts kindergarten, and little Allie will be attending preschool. What?? When did this happen? I'm not even their parent and I'm amazed at how quickly they have grown.
This past weekend I spent some time with my extended family at our (sometimes) annual reunion. The first part of the weekend was spent at the Presbyterian Camp on Okoboji. I worked at that camp during the summer of 2003, and it was one of the best and worst summers of my life. I loved working at camp. It was a ton of work, but it rarely seemed overwhelming. Of course, that was eight years ago, so who knows how accurate my memory is.
Wait.
EIGHT years ago???
See how quickly time goes? It's always fun to get together with my mom's side of the family. We have gotten together almost yearly for as long as I can remember. Of course, as we have gotten older, not everyone is able to make it. This time, eight of the ten cousins were able to come, which was nice. After Okoboji, we headed up to Windom, MN, where my grandparents live, and where I was born. The first day we were there, we started pulling out old pictures. Pictures of when our parents were younger, before we were even on their minds. And pictures of each of us as we came into the world and into our crazy family.
So much has changed since many of those pictures were taken. I remember long summer days at my grandparents' cabin on Fish Lake outside of Windom. I would be in the water as early as possible, and stay in until I was threatened to be left, only taking breaks for lunch and cookies. I loved the lake. There were two metal flights of steps down to the dock, and if you were especially tough, you would do it without shoes on. Some of us would run and jump into the freezing water all at once, while others might take an hour to fully submerge, preferring to acclimate a little at a time. Hours were spent having underwater tea parties and doing underwater acrobatics. We would make special trips to Pamida to buy floaties and noodles, and then wait expectantly for one of the few boats on the lake to whiz past and create perfect waves for floating. When we were younger, my younger cousins and I were not allowed past the end of the dock without an adult present, and we would grumble as we watched the older cousins trek out to the middle of the lake to find the dropoff, or just float where no trees could create a cold shadowy area on the water. As we got older, we would make the trek ourselves, toting large rocks that would pull us down down down, our goal being to touch the bottom of the lake and bring back a handful of sand as proof of our accomplishment. We rarely achieved the goal. This weekend we were discussing the fact that our parents couldn't possibly have known what we were up to, or they would have put it to an immediate stop. My grandparents sold the cabin years ago, but the time spent there is one of my happiest memories.
Back in town, when we were little, we would spend hours in the basement at my grandparents' "house on the hill." We would have ping pong tournaments or play on the piano. The best thing to do was raid the old clothes in the laundry room. Prom dresses and other clothing that had been kept for one reason or another became our costumes for the plays we would write and act out every summer. We found pictures of a group of us dressed up in such costumes, and as soon as I get it scanned, I'll post it, because it's too great not to share. As we got older, my younger cousins and I would spy on the older cousins as they met up with other teenagers around Windom. I remember being extremely jealous when my brother and another cousin would take the youngest girls to McDonald's to pick up girls. I wasn't cute enough to be bait. My grandparents sold their house and moved into a condo more their size several years back. There's not nearly as much room for kids to run and play, but since everyone is only around once a year, it hardly made sense for them to keep such a large house. I don't even drive past the old house on the hill anymore. It's changed almost beyond what I can recognize.
There are so many memories I would like to write down, to share with others and to keep for my own. Memories of walking to the Pine Inn while it was still open and getting ice cream. My grandparents were part owners of the Pine Inn back in the day. Now there is only a dealership where the rustic old restaurant used to stand. Memories of walks to the park and downtown shopping. Windom's downtown has gone the way of so many small town downtowns. I don't even make it there when we are visiting anymore.
There have been so many changes just in my lifetime, and I can't imagine how it must be for my parents and aunts and uncles who grew up in a completely different Windom. One thing that is always constant, while still changing, is my family. They are the type of people who I can barely say boo to for an entire year, and pick up again right where we left off. People I am never uncomfortable around. These people have seen me through my awkward stages, including the current one, and (mostly) love me anyway. I love my family. They drive me crazy sometimes, but I love them all the same. I'm already looking forward to next year's reunion, where we will celebrate my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary! The amazing couple that started it all :)
This past weekend I spent some time with my extended family at our (sometimes) annual reunion. The first part of the weekend was spent at the Presbyterian Camp on Okoboji. I worked at that camp during the summer of 2003, and it was one of the best and worst summers of my life. I loved working at camp. It was a ton of work, but it rarely seemed overwhelming. Of course, that was eight years ago, so who knows how accurate my memory is.
Wait.
EIGHT years ago???
See how quickly time goes? It's always fun to get together with my mom's side of the family. We have gotten together almost yearly for as long as I can remember. Of course, as we have gotten older, not everyone is able to make it. This time, eight of the ten cousins were able to come, which was nice. After Okoboji, we headed up to Windom, MN, where my grandparents live, and where I was born. The first day we were there, we started pulling out old pictures. Pictures of when our parents were younger, before we were even on their minds. And pictures of each of us as we came into the world and into our crazy family.
So much has changed since many of those pictures were taken. I remember long summer days at my grandparents' cabin on Fish Lake outside of Windom. I would be in the water as early as possible, and stay in until I was threatened to be left, only taking breaks for lunch and cookies. I loved the lake. There were two metal flights of steps down to the dock, and if you were especially tough, you would do it without shoes on. Some of us would run and jump into the freezing water all at once, while others might take an hour to fully submerge, preferring to acclimate a little at a time. Hours were spent having underwater tea parties and doing underwater acrobatics. We would make special trips to Pamida to buy floaties and noodles, and then wait expectantly for one of the few boats on the lake to whiz past and create perfect waves for floating. When we were younger, my younger cousins and I were not allowed past the end of the dock without an adult present, and we would grumble as we watched the older cousins trek out to the middle of the lake to find the dropoff, or just float where no trees could create a cold shadowy area on the water. As we got older, we would make the trek ourselves, toting large rocks that would pull us down down down, our goal being to touch the bottom of the lake and bring back a handful of sand as proof of our accomplishment. We rarely achieved the goal. This weekend we were discussing the fact that our parents couldn't possibly have known what we were up to, or they would have put it to an immediate stop. My grandparents sold the cabin years ago, but the time spent there is one of my happiest memories.
Back in town, when we were little, we would spend hours in the basement at my grandparents' "house on the hill." We would have ping pong tournaments or play on the piano. The best thing to do was raid the old clothes in the laundry room. Prom dresses and other clothing that had been kept for one reason or another became our costumes for the plays we would write and act out every summer. We found pictures of a group of us dressed up in such costumes, and as soon as I get it scanned, I'll post it, because it's too great not to share. As we got older, my younger cousins and I would spy on the older cousins as they met up with other teenagers around Windom. I remember being extremely jealous when my brother and another cousin would take the youngest girls to McDonald's to pick up girls. I wasn't cute enough to be bait. My grandparents sold their house and moved into a condo more their size several years back. There's not nearly as much room for kids to run and play, but since everyone is only around once a year, it hardly made sense for them to keep such a large house. I don't even drive past the old house on the hill anymore. It's changed almost beyond what I can recognize.
There are so many memories I would like to write down, to share with others and to keep for my own. Memories of walking to the Pine Inn while it was still open and getting ice cream. My grandparents were part owners of the Pine Inn back in the day. Now there is only a dealership where the rustic old restaurant used to stand. Memories of walks to the park and downtown shopping. Windom's downtown has gone the way of so many small town downtowns. I don't even make it there when we are visiting anymore.
There have been so many changes just in my lifetime, and I can't imagine how it must be for my parents and aunts and uncles who grew up in a completely different Windom. One thing that is always constant, while still changing, is my family. They are the type of people who I can barely say boo to for an entire year, and pick up again right where we left off. People I am never uncomfortable around. These people have seen me through my awkward stages, including the current one, and (mostly) love me anyway. I love my family. They drive me crazy sometimes, but I love them all the same. I'm already looking forward to next year's reunion, where we will celebrate my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary! The amazing couple that started it all :)
Monday, June 6, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
I slay me
So today I checked my hotmail account, which I rarely use, and found that I had a comment on my livejournal blog, which I haven't used in...ohhh...five years or so. I clicked on the link and was plunged into nostalgia. Right smack in the middle of my senior year of college. I spent far too many hours reading through those entries, and then suddenly they ended. My 23 year old self decided to post exclusively on myspace! So I followed the trail to myspace, and was skimming through my entries, trying to find my place, when I found this beauty of an entry. Some things will never change...
You'll never guess what happened!
The craziest thing happened tonight. I was in my apartment and I had just finished talking to my grandparents. I like them a lot, they are fun talk to, and I learned a lot. I learn a lot at school too, although sometimes not as much as I should. It's cuz I play on the computer, and I love it, but it distracts me. Like bubbles. Bubbles are fun and remind me of sparkly things. My ring is sparkly. Sometimes I stare at it for hours on end. Then I realize I was supposed to be doing something else...Oh yeah! So anyway, after I hung up, I decided to check the mail. I love snail mail, even though I don't get much. I don't really love snails though. They are slimy. One time I found a snail shell on a gravel road. That was when I lived in the country and I would ride my bike down to some mulberry bushes. I loved those mulberries. I would eat a lot of them and my whole face and all my fingers would be purple. That would have been better if purple was my favorite color. I don't remember what my favorite color was, but now it's red. I'm wearing red pants. They're comfy. I love comfy pants. I have to wear dress pants a lot of the time now and they're not so comfy. But that's part of the job, I suppose. Jobs are hard. And annoying. Cuz sometimes I just wanna lay around and do nothing. But I can't. Cuz I work. But I don't whistle while I work. Kids and clients would find it annoying. Actually sometimes I whistle for the kids and they try but they can't do it and if we have crackers for snack they spew crumbs all over. I don't like the word spew...
So I got Jill's mail and was headed back to my apartment when I saw that the door to an empty apartment was open. It was dark inside. I don't like the dark. Or open doors when it's dark. Nothing good can come from a dark open door. In scary movies there are always dark rooms and the people always go in and that's where the bad guys are always hiding. Bad guys are not funny. Well sometimes they are, but not in real life. But real life sucks sometimes. I would rather live in the not real world. But not really cuz then it wouldn't be real. You know what I mean, right?
So I ventured into the apartment cuz I was wondering why the door was open. It was cold in there. Cold is no fun. I am not happy that it's winter. Christmas is the only good thing about winter. I love Christmas. We have a Christmas tree. Trees are nice. They give us air. Air is nice, it keeps us alive. Being alive is nice because you get to eat chocolate. I really like chocolate. I went through a phase once when I always craved chocolate cake. I also went through a phase when I did my hair differently every day. I like my hair. It is growing long. I used to have long hair when I was little, and it was cuter then cuz it was thinner, not big and bushy. Bushes are nice, but they can hurt if you try to play in them.
I turned on the light and have you ever wondered how electricity works? I mean, wow, those people are SMART. Like computers, or any technology. I can't believe what they've come up with. I doubt I will ever come close to being that smart. My sister is smart. She is probably a genius. Maddy will be a genius too. She talks a lot. The other day she was calling her doll Auntie Rena and feeding her rice crispies. I like rice crispies, but I don't eat them very often. I prefer honey nut cheerios because they don't get soggy as fast. Soggy stuff is gross. It reminds me of the word moist, which I really don't like. Ya know the grossest sentence ever? The gynecologist had a moist uvula. Yeah it just sounds dirty, but it's not at all. Actually that would be quite healthy, cuz a dry throat is no fun, and you would assume if the uvula was not moist the rest of the throat wouldn't be either. One time I had my tonsils out. They used to be big enough so that I could touch them together. They were right by the uvula.
Anyway, I saw...oh crap, I need to get to bed! Goodnight!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
The anatomy of a surprise
I love surprises. I love the planning and the sneakiness and especially the reactions of people when you pull it off. Just a couple months ago my friend Angie and I surprised our friend Kristen with Angie herself. They hadn't seen each other for almost a year and a half. I thought Kristen's jaw was going to fall off her face. It was awesome.
A couple weeks ago, my brother in law, Martin, texted me to ask if I could watch my nieces on Mother's Day so he could take my sister out. Unfortunately, I had plans already, so I suggested a Saturday overnight instead. Martin quickly made the reservations, probably so I couldn't change my mind ;) Then came the waiting. This is the planting seeds phase. I watched the girls for the day last weekend, and was joking about how it wouldn't happen again until next year. When Emily inquired about my weekend plans, I told her it was cleaning day, but I might need to come to laundry. She had no clue. None. I got up this morning and did not clean. Whoops. I texted Emily to see when they were going to be home so I could do laundry. A couple minutes later I received a text from Martin that read, "She suspects nothing." We're like surprise ninjas. I arrived home before the family did and Emily stood outside as I took my laundry inside. "Whoops, I forgot something in my car," I said, and got my duffel from the car. Emily suspected nothing. Martin and I looked at each other and shrugged. I made a show of turning around and locking my car, duffel in full view. "Man, it's so nice. I just want to stay out," Emily commented. "Well then let's go out," Martin said. Blank stare from Emily. This is about when I started laughing. Emily finally caught on. "You guys are both dorks," is about the extent of the comments we received. Could have been much worse :P All in all, pretty fun.
I love watching my nieces. They are so funny. We have the best conversations. Allie never wastes an opportunity to let me know that she's three and a half. Maddy usually follows with the assertion that she is six and a quarter. Just to be sure I don't forget. Allie wants to be a princess, so Maddy decides to be queen. Maddy is the quintessential older sister, always telling Allie what she's doing wrong. It reminds me of my days as the little sister. Emily always got to be in charge. She would force my friends and me to play school with her and give us extra worksheets she got from her teacher. She would send us out for "recess," fill in the worksheets with the incorrect answers, and then mark them all wrong with her red pen. But that's a sidenote. Allie doesn't take Maddy's crap. She marches to the beat of her own drummer. It is funny how the two of them seem to be patterned after Emily and me. I guess there is something to that birth order stuff.
I took the girls to see the movie Rio tonight. As we were leaving, the sky was beautiful. The sun was setting in the distance, which I pointed out to the girls. "Can we drive there?" Allie asked sweetly. "No, Allie, it's too late to drive anywhere!" corrects Maddy. "Can we drive there in the morning?" Allie wanted to know. "No sweetie, we can't drive to the sun." (Words I never thought I'd say.) "It's way out in outer space." Allie took a few minutes to think about that. "I think I'll be an astronaut when I grow up!" she declared. (How a three year old [excuse me, a three and a half year old] can put that together is pretty impressive!) Maddy was alarmed. "No, Allie!" (she says this a lot) "You can't be an astronaut! If you're an astronaut you have to stay in space for a year!"
The conversation went on, including a gentle reminder from Auntie Rena to Maddy that her sister has time to decide what she wants to be an it's okay for her to dream. These are the sorts of conversations we have frequently. "Look what I can do!" is said so often I can barely turn my head quick enough to watch both of them. They are always trying to marry me off one way or another, whether by offering to come with to search for a husband, counting money out to try to buy me a man, or attempting to get me engaged to the furniture, there's always a new plot with them. In fact, they are always plotting. Lil scamps.
So it's a double-win weekend. I love surprises and I love my nieces. I get to live vicariously through my sister being swept away for the night, and I get to pretend to be a mom for a little while. On Mother's Day, no less! My life is pretty much great :)
A couple weeks ago, my brother in law, Martin, texted me to ask if I could watch my nieces on Mother's Day so he could take my sister out. Unfortunately, I had plans already, so I suggested a Saturday overnight instead. Martin quickly made the reservations, probably so I couldn't change my mind ;) Then came the waiting. This is the planting seeds phase. I watched the girls for the day last weekend, and was joking about how it wouldn't happen again until next year. When Emily inquired about my weekend plans, I told her it was cleaning day, but I might need to come to laundry. She had no clue. None. I got up this morning and did not clean. Whoops. I texted Emily to see when they were going to be home so I could do laundry. A couple minutes later I received a text from Martin that read, "She suspects nothing." We're like surprise ninjas. I arrived home before the family did and Emily stood outside as I took my laundry inside. "Whoops, I forgot something in my car," I said, and got my duffel from the car. Emily suspected nothing. Martin and I looked at each other and shrugged. I made a show of turning around and locking my car, duffel in full view. "Man, it's so nice. I just want to stay out," Emily commented. "Well then let's go out," Martin said. Blank stare from Emily. This is about when I started laughing. Emily finally caught on. "You guys are both dorks," is about the extent of the comments we received. Could have been much worse :P All in all, pretty fun.
I love watching my nieces. They are so funny. We have the best conversations. Allie never wastes an opportunity to let me know that she's three and a half. Maddy usually follows with the assertion that she is six and a quarter. Just to be sure I don't forget. Allie wants to be a princess, so Maddy decides to be queen. Maddy is the quintessential older sister, always telling Allie what she's doing wrong. It reminds me of my days as the little sister. Emily always got to be in charge. She would force my friends and me to play school with her and give us extra worksheets she got from her teacher. She would send us out for "recess," fill in the worksheets with the incorrect answers, and then mark them all wrong with her red pen. But that's a sidenote. Allie doesn't take Maddy's crap. She marches to the beat of her own drummer. It is funny how the two of them seem to be patterned after Emily and me. I guess there is something to that birth order stuff.
I took the girls to see the movie Rio tonight. As we were leaving, the sky was beautiful. The sun was setting in the distance, which I pointed out to the girls. "Can we drive there?" Allie asked sweetly. "No, Allie, it's too late to drive anywhere!" corrects Maddy. "Can we drive there in the morning?" Allie wanted to know. "No sweetie, we can't drive to the sun." (Words I never thought I'd say.) "It's way out in outer space." Allie took a few minutes to think about that. "I think I'll be an astronaut when I grow up!" she declared. (How a three year old [excuse me, a three and a half year old] can put that together is pretty impressive!) Maddy was alarmed. "No, Allie!" (she says this a lot) "You can't be an astronaut! If you're an astronaut you have to stay in space for a year!"
The conversation went on, including a gentle reminder from Auntie Rena to Maddy that her sister has time to decide what she wants to be an it's okay for her to dream. These are the sorts of conversations we have frequently. "Look what I can do!" is said so often I can barely turn my head quick enough to watch both of them. They are always trying to marry me off one way or another, whether by offering to come with to search for a husband, counting money out to try to buy me a man, or attempting to get me engaged to the furniture, there's always a new plot with them. In fact, they are always plotting. Lil scamps.
So it's a double-win weekend. I love surprises and I love my nieces. I get to live vicariously through my sister being swept away for the night, and I get to pretend to be a mom for a little while. On Mother's Day, no less! My life is pretty much great :)
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Let's get traditional
While consuming just a couple (handfuls) of the brightly foiled chocolates, I began to make a foil ball from the wrappers. It is second nature to do so, and I got to wondering how on earth such a habit had begun.
When I was a kid, we never had Easter egg hunts. Well, I shouldn't say never. I don't remember having them. Mostly because we had pets, and pets get into things. My dog Maggie would have LOVED to get a chance to have some of those treats! Instead, we just had Easter baskets in which candy-filled eggs would magically appear. I was never a fan of jelly beans (Starburst being the exception!), so I concentrated on the chocolates. I'm not sure who started it, but my brother and sister and I would have competitions to see who could make the largest ball of foil. I think we were inspired to PeeWee Herman, who had a giant foil ball (AND a giant rubber band ball). I always thought if I saved my ball of foil for years, maybe I could get one as big as PeeWee's. Of course, if anyone has seen me try to keep track of something for a year...well...it was pretty much a big fail. But I started over with good intentions every year.
Now that I'm all grown up, things like Easter baskets and stocking practice drills are a thing of the past. I'm watching my siblings and their families create their own traditions, and my nieces and nephews create their own memories. I had so much fun watching them hunt for Easter eggs this past weekend. I can't wait to have my own kids someday and create traditions with them as well. A little old and a little new. What are your favorite traditions?
Lyle picked a special container for his hunt.
Monday, April 25, 2011
I am socially awkward
You know those people who can walk into an unfamiliar situation and instinctively know exactly what to say? The right amount of humor to use, the safe topics and taboo. The ones who have never met a stranger, only a potential friend, who everyone loves immediately just because of their aura.
I am not one of those people.
I'm not exactly sure what happens to me in social situations. It's like I forget what basic conversation should sound like. I tend to not speak, which is usually pretty safe, except then I am forever labeled as "the quiet one." It's when I start speaking that the problems really begin. You see, I tend to speak as if everyone in the room is hard of hearing. I haven't found my volume button yet. I also talk very fast. And make stupid statements. My freshman year of college, I was hanging out with some people, and somehow I realized that one of the guys had the same last name as me (though he spelled it wrong.) I hadn't really had this experience before, though I know it is fairly common. So I said (yelled), "Your last name is Olson? MY last name is Olsen!!!!" with a big cheesy grin. Cue the blank stare. "And?" "And..well...I just...uhhh...not used to...uhh..." Awkward...
I am not good at jumping into conversations when there are several people in a group. By the time I carefully formulate in my brain what I want to say, the conversation has moved three topics forward.
Them: I really think the government needs to pay more attention to education spending.
Me: Last time I was in Colorado I went white water rafting!
Part of my problem is that I have quite a bit of crazy that needs to be shored up until people get to know me better. Some may say that it is important to let at least some crazy out so people know what they're getting into, but I can't just let a little out. So I become bland and boring, like toast. "Hey, so this weather is awesome, eh?" "I'm a therapist!" (That's always a conversation stopper...)
Speaking of being a therapist...you'd think I'd be better at conversation as a therapist. It's what I do all day. Between coloring and playing board games and playing with action figures. But most people would take offense if I started asking them if they were naughty this week or not. I mean...I guess I've never tried it...but it's just a hunch that it wouldn't go over well.
So how can I fix it? Practice! Who wants to run social drills with me?
I am not one of those people.
I'm not exactly sure what happens to me in social situations. It's like I forget what basic conversation should sound like. I tend to not speak, which is usually pretty safe, except then I am forever labeled as "the quiet one." It's when I start speaking that the problems really begin. You see, I tend to speak as if everyone in the room is hard of hearing. I haven't found my volume button yet. I also talk very fast. And make stupid statements. My freshman year of college, I was hanging out with some people, and somehow I realized that one of the guys had the same last name as me (though he spelled it wrong.) I hadn't really had this experience before, though I know it is fairly common. So I said (yelled), "Your last name is Olson? MY last name is Olsen!!!!" with a big cheesy grin. Cue the blank stare. "And?" "And..well...I just...uhhh...not used to...uhh..." Awkward...
I am not good at jumping into conversations when there are several people in a group. By the time I carefully formulate in my brain what I want to say, the conversation has moved three topics forward.
Them: I really think the government needs to pay more attention to education spending.
Me: Last time I was in Colorado I went white water rafting!
Part of my problem is that I have quite a bit of crazy that needs to be shored up until people get to know me better. Some may say that it is important to let at least some crazy out so people know what they're getting into, but I can't just let a little out. So I become bland and boring, like toast. "Hey, so this weather is awesome, eh?" "I'm a therapist!" (That's always a conversation stopper...)
Speaking of being a therapist...you'd think I'd be better at conversation as a therapist. It's what I do all day. Between coloring and playing board games and playing with action figures. But most people would take offense if I started asking them if they were naughty this week or not. I mean...I guess I've never tried it...but it's just a hunch that it wouldn't go over well.
So how can I fix it? Practice! Who wants to run social drills with me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)