Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

A Matter of Principle

If it seems I’ve been bitching about my internship alot lately forgive me, this is yet another one of those venting posts. I promise next week I’ll be back to posting about some of the funnier moments of my life.

I enter this place and a dark ominous cloud settles shrouds me. My salvation lays in my clients, a clinician that has befriended me and a therapist I highly admire. Luckily for me I remind him of his daughter and he has appointed himself my protector. I feel imprisoned. I’m counting down the days until I am out of there. If it weren’t for the clients I feel I'd be abandoning I would’ve gladly risked injury and climbed the barbed wire fence and escaped months ago.

Can someone please remove the hair shirt this female is rocking? My gawd she's all doom and gloomish!

Hi y’all we’re The Supremes no, no, not those Supremes. None of wear wigs and we abhor those shiny dresses. Allergies you know, the fabric gives us a rash. We are the voices in Mia’s head. We say the stuff she wants to say aloud but because she’s on her best behavior decided to keep to herself. We’ll be hijacking this post at will and providing side commentary because poor Mia has been stressed lately which means we got alot to say.

Allow us to formally introduce ourselves to the newer readers (even though you leave no comments we do see you return again and again) and re-introduce ourselves to the regular crowd. Collectively we’re known as The Supremes but individually we are…
Conscious, Subconscious, and Superconscious.

My sensei had just left the room he was frustrated with me. I hadn’t given him the answers he’d wanted. I had refused to go along with what his interpretation of things. I had held my ground. He hates when I do that.

That’ll teach your ass to tell the truth. What can you say about a place where the therapists make fun of their clients behind closed doors in front of your sensei their supervisor and he says nothing? Lovely ain’t it?

As punishment he decided that I was to redo all of the paper work I’d done last week, work that he'd gone over and approved. It's an action meant to intimidate me to show me who is boss. Just like refusing to allow me to type the paper work. He insists I write it manually.

If you ask me that damn cracker is control freak. He had you walking around for 2 weeks with a bunch of folders in your hand. You had to take them with you every where including your lunch break. And what did these precious folders contain? A sheet of paper with the client’s name, one fricking sheet of paper, one single sheet of paper that served no purpose. He made you schlep those folders around simply because he could.

I think he’s trying to break me. To him I am too sure of myself, too proud.

(Russian accent) He will not break you!

He’d just read my process recording notes about a client (The Clementine Orange man ) I’d helped earlier in the week and was questioning my true motive for helping the man.

Dude sometimes a cucumber is just a cucumber and not a sex toy.

Sensei: Why did you help him? What did you gain from it?

Mia: I helped because no one else was around to help him. I gained nothing from it.

Sensei: No Mia what I am asking is what motivated you to help him. What counter transference caused you to help him?

The sensei was trying to say that Mia helped the man out of her own need that she helped him because she identified with an emotional need of the clients. Therefore by helping him Mia was actually helping herself. The concept of helping someone out because it’s the right thing to do and not because of some psychobabble is a foreign concept to this man. Mind you Mia’s the one who actually has a BA in psychology and counseling not him.

Mia: There was no transference. It was just that he needed help and it’s in my nature to help people.

Sensei: No, Mia I want you to examine the real reason you helped him.

(sigh) You’re absolutely right sensei. Mia helped him because no one helped her when she was 8 years old and her mother made chicken gizzards for dinner.Mia hates chicken gizzards! She’s never gotten over the great chicken gizzard tragedy of 1990, when she was forced to consume chicken gizzards because no one reached out to help her and hand her a fucking hamburger. That’s why Mia helped the man it was the inner child in her craving burger but forced to eat chicken gizzards instead. It was that child’s need that Mia was actually responding to when she helped The Clementine Orange man.

Mia: The reason I helped him was because he needed help. Period, no ulterior motive.

Sensei: How did you feel when he said he wished there were more people in the world like you?

Horrified. We shudder to imagine the word filled with a bunch of 4ft 11 smart mouthed, sarcastic individuals like Mia .

Mia: I was surprised and touched.

Sensei: Did it boost your ego?

Oh yes indeed sensei (inhaling deeply) his words stroked her ego to the nth power. At that moment Mia felt like a God capable of vanquishing legions of evil from this earth with a mere glance of her amber colored eyes. Go stand over there in the corner like a good sensei so she can vanquish you.

Mia: Sensei my ego is not so famished for praise that it sucks it up like a hungry babe at a lactating teat.

(snicker) Got Milk? Whoa. Keep up sensei!

Sensei: You’re not understanding what I am telling you.

Here we go again. It’s the same old crap. Since Mia doesn’t agree with him something must be wrong with her. She’s dense.

Mia: I understand what you’re telling me sensei it’s just that in this is not a case of counter transference.

Just tell him it’s about the chicken gizzards girl, ‘cuz you know damn well it is!

Sensei: What about your ego?

What about ego? He’s not here at the moment he’s watching ESPN.

Mia: Look what I got from his comment was this. He was grateful to me for helping him. In his life not too many people have taken the time to help him out when he’s needed it.

Sensei: What makes you think that?

oh shit now done did to yo’self. You gonna make her get all insightful on your ass.

Mia: Well, if he was used to having his needs being met consistently in terms of receiving help he wouldn’t find it so amazing when someone does takes the time out to help him.

Uh huh it’s like if you’re used to meat on a regular basis it’s not a big deal when someone puts a steak in front of you. However if you rarely eat meat the day you get a steak you’re damn skippy you’re going to be happy as all hell. Shit you might even do Michael Flatley’s River Dance.

Sensei: He said that he saw the offering of the orange as an offering of friendship. You do know that you’re not his friend don’t you? He’s just a patient. If a clinician can’t differentiate between the two they are ineffectual.

Ho-ho snap she narrowed her eyes and is shifting in her seat. She’s getting ready to educate your ass son so pay attention!

Mia: Sensei I am aware that I am not his friend in the sense that outside of this clinic we will not be hanging out but while we are in this setting I am his friend. At John Jay…

Oh shit she’s whipping out her psychology training.

Mia: At John Jay we were taught the newer methods of psychology. We were taught that while you’re treating and interacting with your client you are their friend . The reason behind this is that when you treat your client as a friend it promotes bonding and trust between the client and therapist thereby facilitating treatment. It makes it more effective if they can relate to you as a friend rather than a clinician. Research has shown that therapists viewed as friends are seen as warm, caring and inviting whereas clinicians are the opposite and that is when they are ineffectual.

Booyah! Take that homeboy. The girl made the Dean’s list after all. 4.0 baby 4.0 ! Oh man look at the way he stiffened up like someone rammed a poker up his butt. He looks mad.

Sensei: Mia, I feel you’re too casual and informal with the clients. From now I want you to be more formal with them.

Mia: Formal?

Sensei: Yes, you heard me.

Mia: Sir are you asking me to change my personality when dealing with the clients?

How the hell is she supposed to do that? She is supposed to be someone else, someone that’s not her? What the hell ever happened to thine ownself be true?

Sensei: Yes. You’re too informal for a clinician.

Mia: Is that all sir?

Brrrrr is it us or is it freezing in here?

Sensei: For today, yes.

My sensei left the office satisfied with my punishment. He can kiss my hybrid ass if he thinks I’m changing the way I treat the clients. I’m pretty sure my grade will suffer for it but something’s are just a matter of principle.

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