Getting things

Monday, March 10, 2008

So a couple of months ago I asked work if I could go to a job-related training.  They said “sure”, as long as I was willing to come back and give a mini-training on what I learned.  I absolutely HATE talking in front of people, but I really wanted to go to the training so I just figured I’d deal.  Yeah, nice thought.

As long as I’m “baring all” in this blog I guess I might as well go here too- the training was about suicidality and self-harm.  Been there, done that.  For both.  Not part of my life now, but they definitely left their mark.  So now I’m trying to work with someone to put together a fairly objective training about a topic that is anything but objective for me.  And it’s harder than I thought it would be.  It’s really making me go back and revisit that time in my life.  One of the things the trainer said (specifically about self-harm) is that it’s important to communicate to clients that you “get it.”  Not condone, but at least understand.  And it got me thinking- how many things do I “get” because of my experiences?

I get the intense and overwhelming pain that would lead someone to hurt themselves.  I get feeling worthless and invisible.  I get feeling unloved.  I get feeling betrayed.  I get how much strength it can sometimes take just to make it through another day.  I get not wanting to deal with things.  I get that life isn’t fair . . . in the least bit.

Dealing with infertility has only added to my list.  I get loss.  I get extreme sadness and grief.  I get anger.  I get bitterness.  I get wondering if dreams will come true.  I get wondering what will happen if they don’t.

In my journey through depression I learned how to feel.  Infertility is teaching me how to have all of the intense and painful feelings and not fight them.  To actually feel the sadness and let myself cry and be okay with that. 

I would never even begin to think that I understand everything my clients go through, or that their experiences will exactly match mine, or even that I’ve been through as much trauma as many of them.  But thanks to depression I understand being in pain.  And thanks to infertility I’ve learned to be much better at holding other people’s pain.  And I guess all I can do is hope that makes some difference. 



  1. Hi,

    I’m sorry you are having to experience this. I guess the silver lining is that I know it will make you better at your job. I would much rather see someone who really gets it, and it sounds like you have a fundamental understanding of what your patients are feeling. You are very intuitive!

    But I’m sorry you are in this position at all. I just started reading your blog and plan on reading from the beginning.

  2. It’s a terrible thing to know all of the things you listed personally. However, I agree w/ your supervisor and I believe it may help your patients to have a person who has “been there, done that” and totally relates/understands their personal pain. I’m just sorry that you had to ever feel any of those things at all.

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