(Told you I was bad at this blog thing)
I have worked/volunteered/interned in residential treatment or correctional facilities since December 2007. I've worked with kids as young as five and with adults in their 60s and 70s. I've worked with those with mental illness and those with extensive criminal records. Some call it crazy. I call it my life.
I've been spit at, kicked, swung at, and threatened. I've been cat called, whistled at, and called every derogatory term in the book (and then some...people are very creative). I cannot tell you how many times I've been yelled at or been told that someone hates me. Needless to say, I've developed a thick skin. Callused in some places. But I will absolutely admit that there are some days when they (the clientele that I work with) find that weak patch and rub it raw.
I'll get in my car and cry on the drive home because I couldn't tolerate that day for whatever reason. Something got to me or something I brought into work with me from my own life made me just a little more vulnerable to the potential yuck and muck that I would face that day. Setting myself up for failure, in a way, because I didn't choose my attitude (ask any of my clients...that's my mantra). But here's the glorious thing...I have a loving Heavenly Father that gives me a new day every day. And our bodies are made to heal those raw places. Sure, they might leave a scar, but that just gives you another war story to share.
I'm really working on making the conscious decision to check my own stuff at at least one of the three to seven doors that I walk through on my way into work, and doing the reverse on the way out. You can't save them all, but you can't help any if you can't help yourself. I learned that the hard way early on in my career.
Are there days where I want to pull my hair out and storm out the door or throw myself on the floor and have a two year old tantrum? You bet.
Are there days where I am reminded of exactly why I fell in love with this field in the first place and motivate me to make everyday like that one? You bet.
I'm so thankful the latter weighs out the former.
