You Can Run but You Will Just Die Tired or...How Being a Therapist is LIke Being a Marine Sniper.

From time to time, I have these girls sit on my couch doing the standard cagey teenaged "my parents are making me come to therapy and you can fuck off" look.  I have a lot of these girls- they have boyfriends that their parents disapprove of, often rightfully so.  These girls are moody, irritable, lash out at their families, most especially their well-meaning but anxious mothers, sometimes they harm themselves or experiment with substances.  These are girls who are hurting and who really do need to be in therapy.  They think that when they come see me that I am going to be like every other adult and gear up to fight me.  But, like a Marine Sniper, my skills by far outpace their futile attempts to evade me.  The sniper motto, "You can run but you will just die tired" has many applications.  By the end of the first session, or the second, tops, they are crying on my couch.  Resistance is futile, they have no idea what to do with an adult that comes along side them.  A little empathy, refraining from telling them what to do, taking their perspective and not nagging about the use of curse words are my weapons.  If I have to pull out the big guns I use curse words, which coming from a lady in a cardigan and glasses, usually shatters any defenses they have left.  If they weren't so distressed it would be humorous.  Eventually, they will view me as an ally and my voice will be in their head encouraging them to make healthy choices.   "What would Dr. Clark say?" becomes their motto.  Maybe I can have t-shirts made. 

Monster- a short story

She saw his little velvet paw when it was too late, and silenced the yelp of pain she felt when his claws gouged the delicate skin on one of her ankles. She was trying to get dressed without waking up the entire house but Monster, the cat, thought it was a fun game to ambush her in the early morning light. Monster actually felt like it was a fun game to ambush anyone at any point in the day. Elise ripped off tiny pieces of toilet paper to stop the blood flow as she continued with the morning routine. If she hurried, she would have a few minutes to sit with a cup of tea and a book before everyone else woke up.

As she sat down with her favorite mug, stained with years of use, Elise felt overwhelming gratitude that Monster hadn't woken any of the kids. These moments of quiet had been especially important since her husband, Branden, deployed. He left for Afghanistan about 4 months ago. Some women count down the days until their husbands return. She preferred to get lost in the days and the routine of chasing, toting, chauffeuring & otherwise corralling her three kids. It was easier to avoid acknowledging that she had a husband at all, so oppressive the burden. The emotions involved in counting down to his return made it feel like she was drowning.

And Elise didn't have the luxury of thoughts that swept her into emotional currents she couldn't swim. She couldn't afford to drown in her emotions. All her concentration and focus needed to be on the kids. Most days raising kids felt like herding cats, entirely futile & frustrating for all involved. They needed her to be present, especially because Daddy was glaringly absent. Grubby faces, sticky fingers, tiny socks, the concerns of small people; this was the land where her thoughts needed to dwell. Not the land of dusty faces, wounded bodies, combat boots, the concerns of a nation; the land her husband had to dwell.

Monster, seemingly contrite, curled around her wounded ankle, purring. She could never figure out if he was worth the hassle or not. Elise was an animal person but frequently contemplated murdering that cat. He was unwanted and a lot of work. His attack on her ankles was just one example of complications she didn't need. But, then again, much of her life was unwanted and a lot of work. She certainly hadn't wanted Branden to be deployed and she had no plans to get rid of him. Elise hadn't wanted to be pregnant at 22, either. Babies were something that she had planned to have after she had been married longer, after she had finished college and after she had established her career. Her college plans, all her plans, came to a screeching halt. It was then that she first began to learn that something unwanted, unplanned, could become very precious.

Still, she hung on to this idea that there should be a plan, that she would have a life that followed a plan. Rather than give up on plans, she just revised them. Now the plan was that she would return to school when her three kids were all school-aged. Her husband would have a desk job then and not be required to deploy. Elise closed her eyes briefly, images of her children speaking in full sentences and no longer requiring diapers flitted through her head. The cat had made its way to her reluctant lap, insisting that he be petted. This movement jerked her back to reality. She glanced at the clock and realized that only 5 minutes remained before she had to get the oldest, her son, out of bed and ready for the bus.

The morning routine was like running a gauntlet. First, she woke her son. Like her, he was not a morning person and getting up to go to school was not on his list of preferred activities. If she were lucky, his two little sisters would stay asleep until after he got on the bus. She wasn't lucky often, especially since the baby seemed enjoy being awake as early as possible. Attempting to get her sluggish son out the door while the baby was perched on her hip was not on her list of preferred activities, but she had gotten pretty good at it. If the girls didn't wake up until after their brother got on the bus, she got breakfast ready and then woke them up. On those mornings she was tempted to let them sleep in but in the end that would make bedtime a total nightmare. Elise's daily life was carefully structured about minimizing nightmare situations as much as possible. Typically, she didn't have to overcome that temptation because they woke up well before their brother was on the bus. She then made breakfast, while attempting to get her son out of his pajamas and into clothes appropriate for school. She fought to brush his hair and routinely contemplated giving him a buzz cut, so she could skip dealing with that battle. She wasn't ready to give up his curly mop of auburn hair, so, she continued the good fight. He then gulped down food and dashed to the bus. Most days she was pretty sure that no one was going to call Child Protective Services.

Her mind drifted to the current plan. This plan was based on the idea that it was important for the kids to have a stay at home mom. She felt lucky that she had the freedom to make this choice. Many people she knew were two income families by necessity. When Elise and her husband were devising this plan in the early stages of her first pregnancy, she had no idea how demanding parenting would be. It seemed like there wasn't even room in her life for her own self. Every inch inside her and nearly every minute of her day was consumed by caring for her children. Even going to the bathroom alone would be a luxury.

Branden didn't like cats. He grew up with dogs and planned to get a dog as soon he returned from deployment. Transitioning from a war zone would be difficult and it seemed like it would be good to have something positive for the entire family to focus on. Elise was also worried about Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, and she knew that dogs helped ease the symptoms. A cat, however, was definitely not part of the current plan. Getting a cat also wasn't part of their future plans. A cat had no place on the master plan for their family.

Monster purred happily on her lap as she continued to contemplate his fate. She had agreed to watch the kitten for a week while an acquaintance was out of town. When the woman returned from her trip, she had decided that she didn't want keep him and would take him to the local shelter. Elise couldn't stand thought that he might be put down, so she decided to keep him until she could find him a home. She hadn't anticipated that no one would want a kitten. Ads in the newspaper, on Craigslist, and on the bulletin board at the local pet store, only lead to one interested party. It was a sketchy looking couple who told her that their last cat died in the ditch outside their house. She didn't want that on her conscience, so Monster stayed with her.

By now, Monster was purring so hard that he was drooling. Elise could feel the moisture on her hand as she scratched his charcoal gray chin. She had cats growing up. Living out on a dirt road, it seemed like new strays showed up weekly. She couldn't remember being so frustrated by them. The scratch on her ankle this morning was just one example of the extra hassle the little guy created. She was trying to figure out how to get him to the vet without hauling all three kids with her. He was due for his next round of kitten shots and probably needed to be dewormed.

Elise noticed with surprise that the baby wasn't awake as early as usual. Maybe she would get lucky today. She also noticed, with a sigh, that it was time to wake up her son. As she tread lightly down the hall, ever mindful of her sleeping daughters, she realized that having constantly changing plans was about the same as having no plan. The idea of having a plan was supposed to create some security and some consistency but Elise was at a point in her life where there were just too many variables to manage. Her plans were an attempt to keep herself from getting washed away by the flood waters of her life. None of it helped. The drowning sensation was ever present.

Monster followed her down the hall, meowing for his breakfast. Elise reversed direction to get his food, knowing that his persistent meowing would wake the girls. It had happened just yesterday when she tried to ignore his request for breakfast. He could be so annoying. It was beyond her why she couldn't just take the little nuisance to the shelter. She scooped his food into the dish. He had eaten nearly all the food she had bought to feed him while waiting to find his new home. She mentally added a larger bag of cat food to her grocery list. And maybe some wet food, he was kind of a scrawny little thing. She stopped abruptly. These were not the thoughts of someone who had no intention of keeping the kitten. These were the thoughts of a cat owner.

Elise gave Monster a rub on the cheek and headed back to her son's room. The detour to get the cat food caused her to fall behind her morning schedule. She was going to have to hustle her son a bit more to get him to the bus on time. She sighed inwardly as she bent down to kiss her son's cheek. He would be so excited to learn the kitten was staying.