Welcome to my new blog!

I've been on both sides of the couch and think I can lend something to the conversation about mental health. Telling my own personal experience can, hopefully, give others strength and hope that things can get better. I'll talk about other topics, too, and show what coping skills I use to get myself through, both adaptive and maladaptive.

Friday, May 6, 2011

I relate.

I work with adolescent girls who have been traumatized and are now living in residential therapeutic care, which is part of the foster care system.  They have been physically, sexually, and emotionally abused by not only strangers, but also loved ones - their parents, step-parents, other relatives, etc...  And they are pretty messed up because of it.  And I relate.  Sometimes, I think I relate too much because I can see myself in them in a way that scares me.  I am an "us" and a "them," though I am not a "them" in this capacity of my job (at least, not to the knowledge of either the girls or my employer).  But I relate with the girl who continually cuts herself to get the pain out, coming off as manipulative and an "attention seeker," I get it.  I've had the same opinions directed at me, the same diagnosis thrown around willy-nilly, the same feelings (I believe) inside that makes self-injury seem like the very best choice.  I relate to the girl who seems like she is as much staff as any of the staff are and seems to mother and mentor the other girls.  I felt, when I was in the care of "the system," (which system is up for you to decide) I wanted to help other people so much I forgot (or maybe never knew in the first place) to take care of myself.  And, as a result, I didn't move from my perch for 22 months.  And I blamed it all on everyone else, which is what some of the girls do.  I hated being called "manipulative" because, to me, that implies some sort of agenda or intention.  I think, instead, that I (and some of these girls) are "manipulative" but without knowing it most of the time.  It would, likely, hurt them very badly to know someone is looking at them with the suggestion that they are being less than authentic.  It hurt me.  But time has given me some distance and has made me realize that I was responsible for my own behavior and some of it was really ridiculous, mean-spirited, and probably very difficult to deal with. 

In the same week I spent five days in the hospital for suicidal ideation, I talked to a girl about why it might not be the best thing to self-injure.  I just need to start practicing what I preach, eh?

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