Short and to the point

Dear Coworkers,

You did not get raped at the gas pump. Yes, gas is a lot of money, but paying a lot of money for gas isn't the same as being forced to have sex with someone against your will. That's what rape is. Its worse than high gas prices.

Why doesn't couple's counseling work?

That was a question I was asked today.

Couple's counseling doesn't work in DV relationships for two reasons really. An abusive person doesn't think they are doing anything wrong, and an abused person isn't going to talk in front of their abuser.

Abusers don't take responsibility for anything they do. They will deny hitting someone, calling someone a name, raping someone, etc. Or, they will make it the victim's fault. "I wouldn't have to hit you if you'd just do what I asked you to", "I bought you this fancy thing, you owe me". You know, because they're classy like that.

An abused person, regardless of how much they need the therapy isn't going to say a word to that therapist. It is very likely that if they do, things will be much, much worse when they go home.

There's actually a third reason. The fact that you can't make a person change. An abusive person will not change just because you want them to. They will not get anything out of therapy because again, they aren't the problem, the abused person is. Which only serves to further demolish their self esteem and independence.

About that updating daily thing..

I messed that up didn't I? I apologize. I went on vacation and I've been tired and stressed since I got home, not to mention lacking in motivation. I was so tired yesterday that I don't think I even remembered what I did at work.

Let's do today. Today will be short and sweet. I got yelled at (on the phone) because someone was upset that their "family member" had been closed out. Regardless of the fact that this person had successfully completed the program. I didn't know what to tell this phone caller. There was nothing I could tell her (confidentiality) and I really couldn't understand what she wanted me to do.

Sometimes people are funny.

Two Imitrex and rape

Today was a two Imitrex day. That in itself means it'll be a bad day. Woke up with a migraine, took an Imitrex and downed a Coke Zero, hoping that it'd sort itself out before I went to work. It dissipated some, and I rode my bike to work.

When I got there, however, I remembered that I had to talk about rape. Again. This time it was different though. Less crying, more discussion. It was better, but still not good. It'll never be good.

The woman from this post, the one that used drugs as a coping method had a hard time. Which is understandable, but still hard. Being in my groups has brought up all the things she worked so hard to push down. They are all coming at once and she doesn't know how to sort them. There's guilt, anger, disbelief, confusion, and a feeling of loss. All at once, all the time. I suggested she journal, write down what she's feeling, and that maybe that way she'll be able to sort through the feelings. I gave her a notebook, and told her to write whatever comes out. I told her she could draw pictures or make collages, anything, but to get it out. I told her she could keep it private, she could ask me to read it, whatever she wanted to do. But just to get it out. Try it for a week I said. She agreed. I hope it helps.

After group my headache was back in full force. My last Imitrex found its way into my system. Sometime after lunch it was finally gone. Which was good, because I still had the night group to contend with.

The night group was better. A different topic, a different dynamic. They're getting used to me, laughing at my jokes. We're progressing on the journey of trusting each other. Their topic was recovery. I always start that one at the beginning: What are we recovering from? There's always silence. For some reason, maybe shame, maybe fear, they don't say it. They don't say “abuse”. I have to answer the question for them.

We talked about them making a safe place in their homes, or anywhere really. A place where they feel comfortable, serene, calm. They look at me like I’m crazy, not understanding what I’m trying to get at. My example is when kids make blanket forts. Kids feel safe under the covers; nothing can get you you're under your comforter. That usually hits home. Some of them already have one, a chair on the porch, a tree in the park. I explain to them that it doesn't necessarily have to be a place, that it can be a thing, a memory, a picture, a scent. I tell them mine. Mine is my dog, she makes me feel safe and loved (my other is the smell of my girlfriend's laundry detergent, but I don't tell them that one, that one's just for me).

We build on that place. That's the place where they remember the things that they liked to do. Where they remember who they were before they were in an abusive relationship. It is the place where they find new things that they like to do, things that they want to try. It is the place where they grow. We talk about making time for themselves. Even 5 minutes a day, as long as they don't forget themselves. I suggest they start small; try a new restaurant, a new grocery store, volunteer somewhere, something that's new.

Recovery isn't easy, but we have to start somewhere, and baby steps is the easiest way to start.

I miss my group

My intake from yesterday didn't show up today. I'm not sure what happened, but I hope she calls me back so we can finish. And I hope that she's ok.

I may have mentioned before that Wednesday group used to be my group. I wish it still was my group. I inherited it from a previous coworker that was awesome, and as such his group was pretty awesome too. They soon became my group and we got on fabulously. Because of new employees and the training schedule I've had to give up my Wednesday group to someone else, for the time being. Its hard to do. It really is like giving up a prized possession; like your favorite comic book, or the quilt your grandmother made, or the shell you picked up on the beach with your significant other during a perfect beach day. It hurts.

It hurts more when they tell you they miss you, and are angry about the change. And isn't there anything I can do? Which quickly turns into, “What other days do you teach, can I come to one of those groups?” It would be easier if the person that has taken my group was well qualified to do so. But she's new, lacks training and unfortunately empathy and understanding. And there really isn't much I can do about that, as much as I want to.

All I can do is tell them to be honest on facilitator evaluations, and to bring any concerns they have to my supervisor.

My patience also lacks when the new facilitator of my group tells me that my clients are giving her “attitude” and being “disrespectful”, when the reality is that they are scared, confused, and upset over the sudden change. The fact that this facilitator doesn't understand this worries me. And I hope that someone else catches on to it as well, before something goes wrong.

I miss Wednesday group, but I hope they know that I'll always be there for them if they need me.

Client screening

We do intakes to screen clients/find out background information. Today I had to explain to a woman that we couldn't allow her into the program because she had been arrested for spousal abuse. I had to explain that unless she had court documentation stating that the charges were dropped or dismissed there was nothing we could do.

She explained that she was afraid, and had grabbed a bar from a set of weights to hit her abuser before he hit her. And that when the police came out they arrested her because he was the one that was injured. I told her I understood, and that I believed her, but we had a policy. I advised her to contact the courts, and that we would gladly accept her into the program if she got the proper documentation.

She understood, and went to the courthouse right away. They didn't have any paperwork. The most the clerk could do was explain that her case was rejected by the D.A. That was enough for us. She's coming back tomorrow to finish her intake.

Today a little bit of my faith in the justice system was restored. Today things worked out. Today was a good day.

Monday always comes too fast

I don't do group on Monday. I used to, but then someone else got hired and I had to give up my group. Instead of group I do orientation. Orientation is about as fun as it sounds. Today one person came for orientation. One is better than none though.

Mondays are usually the boring parts of my job. Filing, answering phone calls, filling out paperwork, correcting files.

I absolutely loathe filing. The amount of paperwork we do is absurd, not to mention oftentimes redundant. But necessary I suppose.

Mostly today was me, bent over a file, listening to The Knife on my iPod, ignoring my coworkers as much as possible, trying to keep distractions to a minimum.

Totally glamorous.

This happened on Thursday

And starting today I'm going to try to update daily, even if it is somewhat mundane. But alas, Thursday.

Domestic violence is the hemorrhoid of society. That's what I told my clients in Thursday night group. And its true. It isn't something that we talk about as a society, and its still something that is embarrassing for someone to talk about. And that makes me mad. Why do we wait for someone to get really hurt, or for someone to die before it makes the news? Why do we not teach our children that domestic violence is not acceptable?

Why are we still afraid to talk about this when it happens to so many people? Why is this still somewhat acceptable in our society?

Why is the hardest question to answer.

This one took a long time to process

On Thurdays I don't go in until 10:00am. This is due to the fact that the new people in my office need to take training and so the people that don't need training get to pick up their slack. But alas, I'm off topic.

Thursday morning I get in, put my stuff on my desk, turn on my computer, and the phone rings. Since we are down a receptionist I answer it. Its my client, and she sounds, for lack of better words, out of it.

She tells me that she just got out of the hospital and won't be in group because her face is all swollen. I pause for a second and tell her that its Thursday, not Wednesday, and that she doesn't have group today. She is unfazed by this fact, but just reiterates that she cannot come to group.

I asked her what happened. She said her husband came home and was hallucinating that the police were in the bedroom, and that she was going to tell them what he was doing. He beat her, he locked her in the closet, he sexually assaulted her, he bit her, he hit and kicked her, he choked her. This went on from one afternoon until the next morning. 

In the morning he left her in the room, he woke up the kids, made them breakfast and took them to school. She called the police. He ran when the police showed up. She doesn't know where he is. She spent the night in the hospital, she had social services visit her house, she is bruised and beaten physically and emotionally. She has to deal with the aftermath.

And he, if he gets caught, he will get a slap on the wrist. Fuck everything about that.