Today, someone said to me "I've permanently got that feeling you get when someone sits you down and tells you they've got some bad news...."
Counselling work is the strangest of things. Part listening ear, part sounding board, not there to advise, yet somehow I help you work out what you're going to do next. I'm not your friend, yet I hear the things you can't even tell your partner. The shocking, the embarrassing, the mundane, the too-painful-to-bear elsewhere. Sometimes you come to me because your 'real friends' don't give you the space to share the things on your mind and in your heart. "Some friends" I think. The normal rules of conversation are suspended, as you talk and I listen. Occasionally repackaging your words, I hand them back to you so you can hear them spoken by someone else. Do they still ring true to you now? I'm privileged to witness thoughts given voice for the first time. All possibilities exist in that room, all options can be played out. Leave your husband? Do it right now, here, with no obligation....how would it be to do that? Remember though that even thoughts can be dangerous; once you've opened the box, can you ever go back to how it was?
The severely depressed, unable even to make eye contact, confound and trouble me in equal measure. I wonder how I can get alongside them in that dark place when I myself feel so optimistic, how can I help you see a way back. "You're my last chance" someone joked, as I sat there, feeling unworthy of their hope.
Sometimes you speak of giving things away, getting rid of incriminating things, preparing for your name to be used past tense. I need to tread carefully here, yet I must also be direct. The most difficult balance to get right. Have I saved lives? Almost certainly. Have I ever made anyone feel worse? Undoubtedly. I don't get it right all the time.
But there are few things greater than how it feels when you finish the work, somehow changed. We've shared something unique, something precious. I've seen you at your most vulnerable and shared your worst fears. What have I shared with you? Something of myself, without you knowing a thing about me.
Strange work it may be Ali, but clearly fulfilling, worthwhile and vocational. Yours is a much more worthy place in life than just the taking of a wage to increase the wealth of some corporate organisation that most of us are stuck with.
ReplyDeleteI respect what you do.
I appreciate that your work can be traumatic, but I'd love to have a vocation like you, rather than just a job (though even one of those would be welcomed at the moment,) because with what you do, even when things aren't going too well, job satisfaction is a given.
I envy what you have.
xx D.
I actually don't know where you get your energy from Ali, emotional or otherwise! Even in the capacity in which I 'know' you, you have had a positive effect on me. It's definitely your vocation x
ReplyDeleteHi Ali
ReplyDeleteYou have put into words precisely how I felt as a counsellor. It's a very priveledged, powerful role. In turn I loved and hated it. I felt elated when i saw change in clients and useless when after weeks of work, I was at a loss as to how to move the person on. Deciding when to call it quits is (or at least for me was) traumatic.
Keep up the good work hunni. I hope you have an effective supervisor on whom you can off load.
Hugs
Di
xxx