yes, there is a point to this, though i'm not sure what it is yet. this is my grandchild with both his parents. it's not something that i expect a lot of, though it should be this way, surely. but life doesn't always give us what should be. we don't always allow life to give this to us, either. sometimes, we take what we have, what grows in our dark places, we cultivate that negativity until it is bloated, fat and poisonous, ripe for picking, and this is what we give ourselves, what we cherish the most. and i pray, in sincerity, that Sydney and Joe choose different for themselves. there are more than enough unhappy people in the world.
it's going on midnight, Friday, August 24th. i could be sleeping, i could have knocked myself out. but i napped, i am awake and about to work. and that's cool. because it's unusual. it's not my norm, not of late. and thus, i'm going to act on what i am feeling now. part of that is getting this Journey logged.
today was stressful. but it was okay. i got up and out okay. i got through the runs okay. seeing my mom was cool, having lunch with Lonnie was cool, and counseling with VF was cool. but the stress was there. i woke with it, i went to bed with it and i haven't let it go yet. and it has to do with a client, who is a troubled young man, possibly psychotic, definitely developmentally disabled, and very likely in need of a help he won't get. it's been quite a while since i have had someone that i feel i should help, but have no idea how.
i remember when i was still very fresh in recovery. i mean, maybe in my first year. my cousin, Vanessa, was an alcoholic. i don't know if she still is; hell, i don't even know if she's still alive. but then, she was an alcoholic. she was one of my drinking partners, before cocaine closed off those corridors for me. anyway, my friends Mike and Karl called me and said she was in trouble, that she needed help. i wasn't quite the SUPERHERO i thought i was when i went charging down to Lisbon to try to 'save' Mark and almost ended up relapsing. but i was still a young, stubborn idiot who didn't listen well and always thought i knew more than i did. so i called Johnny, my sponsor, when i got to her house, had my friends bail on me and watch this woman out of her head in DT's, hallucinating, tripping badly, and knew i was in over my head. my sponsor told me to call the paramedics while i was still there, have them come and get her and take her to the hospital, because if i left without calling them, she wouldn't open her door for them. i couldn't do it. i couldn't call to have my cousin wrapped in a straight jacket, taken to a psych ward. so i sat with her...alllll night. sat and took on her insanity, took it on until i could feel the bugs and hear the voices she was talking about. i elicited a promise, once the sun rose, to get her to a meeting, and i went home, cleaned up, went back...and of course she didn't open the door. and of course it was too late for me to call the paramedics, because she wasn't going to open the door for them either. i went to the meeting we were both supposed to go to, and i cried while two of my friends held me, not just from the frustration, but from the insanity i had taken on that was still all over and in and through me, and i had to get it out. i know my cousin did go back into treatment at some point after that, but that's all i know about her, as we've not kept in touch over the years.
this is not the same thing.
in this day, what i saw was a young man struggling to be okay, and losing. losing because something is eroding inside of him, but in such a way that he's not really going to get the help he needs. eroding in his mind, and his mind wasn't really on a solid foundation to begin with. he runs the gamut between his cat, who at one time is a lovable beast and at other times speaks to him, the snakes in his toilet, two of which had to be replaced, which he'll say were broken but not that he broke them. he speaks of both God and the devil, and that makes me think there is more than psychological stuff going on. he speaks of an abundance of restaurants he enjoys eating in, but in the next round of conversation every place is 'too expensive', cost too much and he'll never eat there again. when he speaks, strangely, i think i'm listening to an old man, which gives me an idea of who is 'speaking through him'. but.
but.
but.
but he is the edge that my bus is on. he is the one who thinks all the attention should be his. he is the one that is most needy, most angry. he has thrown temper tantrums twice in my presence. i am not inclined to patience with bad behavior, but i am on the job and there are expectations of me. so i have to change things for the other clients, things that they don't really need to have changed, trying to keep this one client from 'losing it', though he's going to lose it anyway.
this isn't the usual entry, but it's necessary. i'm going to spend some time over this weekend thinking and praying on this, and trying to find some answers, if they are given to me. but, it wasn't a bad day regardless. it was just...a day on the edge of thoughts i have to think. i am grateful for a mind that works, for friendship and family, and for the ending of the day which has now taken place, as i listen to an Oprah Winfrey the Boss gave me to listen to and the time is 12:08 in the a.m. Thank you, Father.
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