Vicki came into Uturn after coming to Brandon on a bus from Winnipeg and eventually ending up in the Centre for Adult Psychiatry. In the previous 5 months she had stopped using cocaine, meth and alcohol and was escaping a very dangerous environment in Winnipeg where she was connected to some pretty nasty people capable of doing very nasty things.
Vicki could be, uhhhhh, well random is too polite but since this is a family show we'll stick with that. It was amazing to see where the conversation could go in a heartbeat with her. One such chat sticks out in my mind very, very clearly.
We were sitting on the couches in the Uturn office chatting about how things were going when, without any hesitation, Vicki said, "I am pretty sure my pizza was stolen."
"Your pizza?", I asked?
"Yeah. I put it in the oven and then I took a shower and then when I came out of the shower I thought, 'wow, that pizza smells good.' And then when I opened the oven door there was nothing there. I know it was Shaun."
I closed my eyes, trying desperately to wrap my head around someone stealing a pizza out another person's oven when I said, "so you are pretty sure it was stolen? Why do you think it was Shaun?"
"Yeah, because he likes pizza. He likely smelled it in the hall, came in and took it when I was in the shower."
"But it sounds like you're not sure if it was stolen or not. Where else could it go?"
"I know right? So I think you should evict Shaun because that's not cool."
I just slowly nodded by head, trying to put together a response and look concerned enough to not have Vicki think that I thought she was crazy. During this moment there was a pregnant pause which ended with Vicki stating, "and someone stole my peephole."
Still trying to cobble together a measured response from the great pizza caper I responded, "uhhhhhhhhh, your peephole?"
"Yep it's gone. But don't worry, I put a piece of Kleenex it the hole."
"So it's been quite the week for you", I said. "First, your pizza was stolen, or so it's assumed, from your oven and then your peephole from your door was pried out."
"Yeah. Truth be told, I'm not feeling completely safe around here."
Later that day I took a stroll through the Uturn apartment building and, sure enough, there was an entire Kleenex stuffed into the peephole in Vicki's apartment. At lease she took care of it.
Vicki worked extremely hard to make a different life for herself but it was very, very difficult. She had so many obstacles from her addictions (that she was doing really great with) to mental illnesses to trying to adjust to a new city. Overall she was doing really well but one day she got some money that she wasn't expecting which put her in a really good mood. At the same time she was with an unsavoury character who had heroin in his possession. Another Uturn tenant was with both Vicki and the other guy and didn't want to use any needles but didn't want to leave her alone either. Sometime during that night of drinking and drugging Vicki overdosed and died. It was the first loss of a tenant that I experienced in Uturn. I truly believe that if the heroin hadn't been available right in that moment that Vicki wouldn't have searched it out which is extremely sad. The combination of feeling excited, a negative influence and available drugs along with a severe lack of impulse control led to her death.
Every time I look at a peephole I think of Vicki.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Friday, October 11, 2013
A Perfect Dreary Sky
A brief post:
I love driving in the rain. I don't know what it is about it exactly but it pulls at my heart quite frankly. Dark brooding skies, rain on the windshield and watching the water run off the blades as you pound down ever blackening asphalt. And the best time to drive in the rain is the fall with all the resplendent colours being drenched in a chilling rain and those low lying clouds that move much faster than their counterparts, seemingly having a mind of their own. Ahhhhhh, that's the stuff.
It truly draws something out of me, out of a deeper source than a bright, sunny day. Don't get me wrong, I love summer days. Especially if I get to spend them with Julie and the kids at a park or out on the water with a fishing rod in my hand. But days like today are connected to a different anchor, and I don't mind that. I know, I know. Rain is lousy for farmers at this time of the year and there are many in these parts. I'm sorry about that but me enjoy it won't make it last longer.
Gray, dreary days are beautiful. This afternoon I'm going to go to Starbucks, treat myself to a Pumpkin Spice Latte and meet with some of our tenants (hopefully they'll show) and hear more of their stories.
Enjoy the long weekend. Be thankful. Hug your kids. Get on the floor and play with them. Pay attention to the tenderness of your wife's kiss. Linger longer in the arms of your lover. Reach out a little to someone who doesn't have any of the above to go home to.
Enjoy the long weekend, folks.
I love driving in the rain. I don't know what it is about it exactly but it pulls at my heart quite frankly. Dark brooding skies, rain on the windshield and watching the water run off the blades as you pound down ever blackening asphalt. And the best time to drive in the rain is the fall with all the resplendent colours being drenched in a chilling rain and those low lying clouds that move much faster than their counterparts, seemingly having a mind of their own. Ahhhhhh, that's the stuff.
It truly draws something out of me, out of a deeper source than a bright, sunny day. Don't get me wrong, I love summer days. Especially if I get to spend them with Julie and the kids at a park or out on the water with a fishing rod in my hand. But days like today are connected to a different anchor, and I don't mind that. I know, I know. Rain is lousy for farmers at this time of the year and there are many in these parts. I'm sorry about that but me enjoy it won't make it last longer.
Gray, dreary days are beautiful. This afternoon I'm going to go to Starbucks, treat myself to a Pumpkin Spice Latte and meet with some of our tenants (hopefully they'll show) and hear more of their stories.
Enjoy the long weekend. Be thankful. Hug your kids. Get on the floor and play with them. Pay attention to the tenderness of your wife's kiss. Linger longer in the arms of your lover. Reach out a little to someone who doesn't have any of the above to go home to.
Enjoy the long weekend, folks.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Fragile Strength
What I've been considering is, how do we define the character of people? Are humans resilient or are we fragile? Perhaps the answer is a resounding, yes.
I work with people all the time, either trying to be a partner in healing or livingly different or trying to help people see that it may be a good idea to address some pain or areas to be different in. I prefer the latter. I don't know how good I really am at motivational interviewing. People suffer with an immense spectrum of emotional pain and/ or psychological symptoms without being aware of the source. As the source is understood and named it's often like uncovering a fossil; the first sight of it looks incredibly significant but as the excavation continues it becomes clear that it's much larger than first considered. And often those bones have their source in childhood to a certain degree, or at least something can be discovered there that helps explain other choices, decisions and consequences. And as I work with the person and we gently excavate an area we highlight hurts, longings, disappointments and grief together. In that process there can be healing of a variety of proportions. For some the "dig" is sufficient. For many others it is only a part of their restoration and often the more challenging work comes in putting things in an order that feels like it brings more vitality and life.
It's hard work to be different. Friggin' hard work. I see it all the time in my work with Uturn and as a therapist. It's not only hard work but it can be incredibly challenging work to overcome all the hurts, unfulfilled longings, disappointments and grief. And there is a difference between hard work and challenging work. I remember transferring the sand out of our enormous sandbox when we sold our house and taking it to our new place. I figured out (because I'm a little ridiculous about these things) that there was about 3000 pounds of sand in that box and I moved it using a shovel, a wheelbarrow and my father-in-laws trailer and then replayed the scenario once I got to the new place. That was HARD work, but there wasn't anything challenging about it.
But I digress. I could get lost in discussion on the development of psychopathology , etc. but my discussion has four parts. First, we all experience emotional pain or discomfort to a certain degree. It may or may not be lifelong. It may or may not be invasive. It may or not be overwhelming to the point of shutting down our systems. But we all experience it. Don't forget that when you're dealing with your friends, family and neighbors. They likely won't show you but they are experiencing something they feel like they could live without.
Second, it can be hard to beat.
Third, people have an amazing capacity to keep moving while under a mountain of hurt, pain and challenges. I am constantly reminded of the resiliency of people to continue forging relationships, holding down jobs, keeping their families together, being active in their churches while all the time fighting terrifying fights that go unseen and unnoticed. Being a Dad and Sunday School teacher while at the same time having a very real struggle with trying to remain alive. I witness spectacular things.
Fourth, I hate that it's so hard to get in the clear. There's a part of me that wonders, 'God, why couldn't you have made us a tougher stock?' Thicker skinned, heavier armour? (Huh, just had a thought about that but that's fodder for a different post).
It's that last point that frustrates me the most and gets me confused as I try to characterize people. Are we so fragile that bad relationships as kids can affect us our entire lives? And of course it's much more complicated than that, but do you get my drift? And on top of that, the process of fixing how we live because of those bad relationships can take a very, very long time and may never be complete. Perhaps the fact that it can take so much work to rectify bad childhood relationships (and I'm just using that as one example of where the coloring starts going outside the lines) tells us how critical and significant the hurts, bumps, bruises and gashes are that happen to us.
And yet, see my third point. So the question is, are we fragile or are we strong? The answer is yes and I have to get used to the tension in that.
I work with people all the time, either trying to be a partner in healing or livingly different or trying to help people see that it may be a good idea to address some pain or areas to be different in. I prefer the latter. I don't know how good I really am at motivational interviewing. People suffer with an immense spectrum of emotional pain and/ or psychological symptoms without being aware of the source. As the source is understood and named it's often like uncovering a fossil; the first sight of it looks incredibly significant but as the excavation continues it becomes clear that it's much larger than first considered. And often those bones have their source in childhood to a certain degree, or at least something can be discovered there that helps explain other choices, decisions and consequences. And as I work with the person and we gently excavate an area we highlight hurts, longings, disappointments and grief together. In that process there can be healing of a variety of proportions. For some the "dig" is sufficient. For many others it is only a part of their restoration and often the more challenging work comes in putting things in an order that feels like it brings more vitality and life.
It's hard work to be different. Friggin' hard work. I see it all the time in my work with Uturn and as a therapist. It's not only hard work but it can be incredibly challenging work to overcome all the hurts, unfulfilled longings, disappointments and grief. And there is a difference between hard work and challenging work. I remember transferring the sand out of our enormous sandbox when we sold our house and taking it to our new place. I figured out (because I'm a little ridiculous about these things) that there was about 3000 pounds of sand in that box and I moved it using a shovel, a wheelbarrow and my father-in-laws trailer and then replayed the scenario once I got to the new place. That was HARD work, but there wasn't anything challenging about it.
But I digress. I could get lost in discussion on the development of psychopathology , etc. but my discussion has four parts. First, we all experience emotional pain or discomfort to a certain degree. It may or may not be lifelong. It may or may not be invasive. It may or not be overwhelming to the point of shutting down our systems. But we all experience it. Don't forget that when you're dealing with your friends, family and neighbors. They likely won't show you but they are experiencing something they feel like they could live without.
Second, it can be hard to beat.
Third, people have an amazing capacity to keep moving while under a mountain of hurt, pain and challenges. I am constantly reminded of the resiliency of people to continue forging relationships, holding down jobs, keeping their families together, being active in their churches while all the time fighting terrifying fights that go unseen and unnoticed. Being a Dad and Sunday School teacher while at the same time having a very real struggle with trying to remain alive. I witness spectacular things.
Fourth, I hate that it's so hard to get in the clear. There's a part of me that wonders, 'God, why couldn't you have made us a tougher stock?' Thicker skinned, heavier armour? (Huh, just had a thought about that but that's fodder for a different post).
It's that last point that frustrates me the most and gets me confused as I try to characterize people. Are we so fragile that bad relationships as kids can affect us our entire lives? And of course it's much more complicated than that, but do you get my drift? And on top of that, the process of fixing how we live because of those bad relationships can take a very, very long time and may never be complete. Perhaps the fact that it can take so much work to rectify bad childhood relationships (and I'm just using that as one example of where the coloring starts going outside the lines) tells us how critical and significant the hurts, bumps, bruises and gashes are that happen to us.
And yet, see my third point. So the question is, are we fragile or are we strong? The answer is yes and I have to get used to the tension in that.
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