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Thursday, February 26, 2015

Adults are Liars and Other Lessons

            You, a counselor, are seeing a client who is engaging in self-destructive behaviors. She demonstrates interpersonal chaos, impulsive and irrational behavior, cognitive dysregulation, and succeeds in not only harming herself emotionally, but those around her. Her relationships are strained or in conflict, she is not mindful of her actions nor of the influence they have on the people around her.
            As humans, we often encounter people in moments of distress. Life is challenging to say the least, and we being imperfect, flawed, and broken, tend to have lives that reflect this. There isn’t necessarily such a thing as “having your shit together” – it’s an illusion. Life gives us lemons, throws us curveballs, and is sometimes a general shitshow.
            As a child, I used to envy adults. They were so calm and collected and put together. My life existed in a state of pandemonium and disarray where scraped knees and being put in time-out were crises of epic proportions. As a teenager, heartbreak was a common occurrence, and life basically “sucked.” Again, I idolized the picturesque perfection of adulthood.
            Here I am, at the dawn of said adulthood, and I realize… it was a farce. A lie. A Façade.
            Adults, once long-legged creatures of grace and composure more closely resemble fat, fluffy, baby pandas, excited but lazy, rolling over one another and bumping into each other in confusion and blind frenzy, mostly curious as to where the food is.
            Furthermore, adults are constantly in distress. Money and bills and jobs and interviews and dating and student loans and marriage and babies and divorce and taxes and death and mistresses and relationships and confusion and heartbreak and BEDLAM. You adults LIED TO ME. Where was the class where I would learn how to handle everything with composure?
            Back to your client. Her behavioral, emotional, and thinking patterns are creating dissonance in her world, causing misery and distress. Now, our natural reaction not only as a therapist but as an empathetic being is to help our client. Let’s take a step back. Let’s fix it.

            WRONG.

            Here is the true secret to adulthood, and potentially to a happy life. Are you listening?
            We are not here to FIX it. Life itself can be generally lousy sometimes. We hear over and over again that it won’t be easy. We do not FIX our client, we do not FIX our own problems, we do not FIX our lives. We learn skills on how to handle, how to cope, how to reframe, how to regulate. We learn distress tolerance. Core mindfulness. Emotion regulation.
            If your client asked you to fix her life, you would not have the power to do so. Even she lacks that power! But we can learn skills that prepare us for the chaos of life and tackle it with grace… like adults.
            I can’t tell you life will be great or easy. In fact, I can pretty much promise you the opposite. But even in our moments of distress, there is great beauty. With the right tools and mindset, you can tackle just about anything.


And as my wise mother often says, “Happiness is a choice, not a destination.” 

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Travels

Over the past two years, my relatively quiet life has suddenly included a significant amount of travel. Between being in a long distance relationship, studying abroad, and rediscovering a general love for new places, I’ve found it hard to sit still for too long.

Now that travel has become relatively commonplace for me, I consider myself on my way to becoming a traveling pro.

Whether genetically inherited from my father – a pilot in the air force who gets antsy if he doesn’t fly at least once a month – or simply a disease caught by chance, I have a terrible case of wanderlust.

That being said, it’s time to start passing on information that I have found useful in my travel. Much of what I learned was through some trial and a lot of error… so hopefully I can spare my followers the misfortune of my travel mishaps.




Stick with me over the next few weeks as I discuss how to pack a carry-on like a pro, how to visit NYC, and even share my own misadventures here.
Ciao, miei amori!


Tuesday, August 19, 2014

A letter to our parents:


We are embarking on a journey. After much discussion and dreaming, Erin, Hollis, Brett and myself are going to western Europe. Why? How? Let me explain.

Last summer, Hollis and I both studied abroad in London. We knew each other for only three weeks, but she became my soul sister. We talked about our deepest desires and fears, our families and friends. Making friends abroad is a totally different experience – you cling to one another with an equal mix of love and desperation. Living with one another gave us a new appreciation for the simplest of things. We learned budgeting, self care, and the true value of a shared, cheap pasta dinner.

I thought I was crazy to go all the way to London with no one to meet me at the other side. My first night in London, I got miserably lost trying to get back to campus. I was so exhausted I was falling asleep, I had to navigate the tube by myself, and it was extremely late. But I was never scared – I am smart and stubborn. I made it back after three hours, and I never had troubles navigating the transportation system again. That experience taught me self-sufficiency, independence, and that the world doesn’t have to be a big, scary place. I sought help without being a target, I was aware of my surroundings, and for the first time I didn’t depend on my parents to get me out of a sticky situation. Hollis had a similar situation and traveled to Ireland and Scotland completely alone! We were empowered by our own strength, explored and pushed our limitations, and expanded our educational horizons.

I have been told “the habits you form now will be with you for the rest of your life.” Many people I once knew have demonstrated the truth in the statement in a negative manner. I have watched youth I knew grow in to adults. Laziness turns into apathy and lack of ambition. Partying, once so cool, turns into alcoholism. Sleeping around turns into failed marriages and accidental pregnancies. While I don’t want to sound all gloom-and-doom, and I believe your life can turn around at any moment, there is an important lesson here: life is a result of intentional habits. So I decided to do the things that were most important to me first, not last.

As we get older, life can just sort of happen to us. Whatever we end up doing, we often end up with more responsibilities, more burdens, more obligations. This isn’t necessarily negative – it’s part of growing up. It means you’re influencing people, leaving a legacy. Youth, in contrast, is a time of total empowerment and change.  We still have ‘room to grow,’ and are at the time of mistakes, discovery, and seeking direction.

I have grown and changed through travel – and what better habit is there than appreciating the beauty of life around me? Traveling changes the way you see the world. You are humbled to realize the world does not revolve around you, and find new ways to relate to others.

I have lost people who are dear to me far too soon, and I am reminded of the fragility of life. We are not promised old age, we are not guaranteed more time. I choose to see the world and taste the fullness of life, I seek to give my life meaning.

Why now? … Why not? I refuse to let my dreams be only dreams.


So, with three dear friends, limited funds and only a backpack, I seek to expand my horizons. We travel not to escape life, but for life to not escape us.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Yet Another

It’s impossible to say what’s next Currently, to take one breath And another And another To remind my aching heart to continue to beat While my mind screams for release And I lay Shaking Cold Empty on the floor To he, a game To me, my life And I was a casualty Nothing more, I suppose. His friends who mocked me For my silly photos Silly videos Silly girl Yet, I thought that’s what he loved My passion My childlike innocence My laughter My naivety My zest for life My hunger for adventure and experience Me.
But he loved nothing
I suppose
But his own selfish desires
Not knowing with every breath he drew
I was counting on him
To be the man I knew he could be
To be different
To be the one who finally saw me and loved me for who I am
Who caressed these fermenting thoughts
Trapped in rotting flesh
Who would nurture back to life
The sweet, careless girl
Reckless, in love He was my breath My light And I managed to lose myself in him The permeable membrane All to eager to give it all And now I am left with nothing He, not knowing Me, not seeing That no one can love me But myself.