Some of you have emailed me these past months and thanked me for the upbeat, spiritual, “old timey” type blogs that I post. Many of you have touched me with the kind words that you have written. While I try to keep upbeat and I love my work, there are times when I think all of us want to for at least a moment, take our shingles down from the building and walk away. This can be due to the low pay, lack of respect, insurance red tape or a host of things. Most of us work through those feelings and return to do our part to make a difference while others finally move on to brighter pastures. I don’t know when my time will come to hang it up but when I do, I am sure there will be a tractor, cowboy hat, denim and a flannel involved.
Many of us could likely be described as “emotionless” or “made of steel” when it comes to handling tragedy. Though are hearts may break and our eyes want to flood we are able to shut it down, remain calm, remain strong and help guide those we serve out of the darkness of the situation and back into the warm glow of life. That does not mean that we are immune to darkness however, or that we leave unscarred.
Recently I was asked by a clinician I assist with in their development if there were any cases that haunt me. Based on my reputation as “Mr. Calm” or “the Smiley Doctor” as many clients have called me over the years (mostly kids); she appeared surprised when I answered in the affirmative. “Yes,” I told her, “I have some that I have been unable to shake; they haunt me at times when something happens to remind me. It could be a movie, a face, song or whatever…” None of us is immune but still we soldier on.
My mind drifted for a few moments during supervision. I thought of “that case” that helped lead me to never want to watch a movie that deals with rapists. The one that made it hard for me to see a sex offender as anything but a pile of garbage and lead me to my own supervision that eventually helped me to work with offenders when required (though I no longer do so in my current job due to the office setting which is a remodeled home in a very residential location).
“Veronica” (not her real name and many items will not be shared due to confidentiality) was barely beyond being a toddler when her life changed. Playing outside with her sibling on a warm summer morning, safely within the confines of her yard he appeared. She was found hours later, clothing tattered, crying, shattered and alone. She was confused and in need of medical attention which she received. She initially denied anything happening: “I just got lost Momma; sorry I left the yard.” She denied anything happened, her cuts and bruises were attended to but no rape kit or exam was performed. Her parents referred to the incident as a “bad dream” and acted as if nothing ever happened. It worked for a while until the bad dreams intensified and her physical pains became worse and worse. Eventually they sought treatment from a counselor and I was randomly assigned.
She talked about her “bad dream” in sessions with and without her parents (immigrants who spoke little English) mostly without. We worked through what we could and I of course referred her to an MD to rule out any physical roots to her mysterious pain. I requested a physical exam based on what she had started to disclose in session and a series of blood work. The physical exam was inconclusive, which was to be expected due to the passing of time but the blood work was another story. This small child had an STD of which there was no cure, only monitoring and ongoing treatment for symptoms. I never expected to have to tell a child so young that she had an STD. I thought of how her life had changed again, not only did she have to survive her attack but now she would live her life with an STD and its stigma. I thought of how her future dating life would be affected, relationships, self esteem etc. that would be attached to the disease. This added many layers to those which the attack itself had brought forth. I remained calm and supportive, assuring her that we would all smile again.
Her parents could no longer deny the attack or dismiss it. Cultural issues caused further problems because their daughter was now “no longer pure.” She was “tainted and no one will have her. She will die alone.” They were cold towards her.
She cried. She was lost. She told me how she denied anything happened because he said if she told that he would come back and kill her family. Police reports and the related DCF mandated reporter process followed but no suspect has ever been identified. I worked with her to the best of my ability on and off for years. Her parents never showed much love or compassion towards her but I do not know how much they showed prior to her attack.
With time I saw her less and less but she keeps in contact. She eventually graduated High School and College and has a professional job. She met and married a wonderful man whom I met when she requested a session to tell him about what had happened and about her disease. She continues to have periodic nightmares of him but has successfully identified herself and her mindset not as that of a victim but as of a survivor. She is no longer a little girl; she has become a strong and resilient woman.
As a clinician, cases sometimes change our lives. I do not watch movies that appear to glorify rape or that have graphic rape scenes. I see no cinematic value in such films unless they are designed to raise awareness and educate on the issues.
As a clinician, we will need guidance from others. As ethical practitioners we have large support networks and work through those issues which haunt us. I was able to see rapists as people and work with them, though I still feel that they belong behind bars where our children and families are safe from them but I realize that is out of my hands. I prefer to work with survivors; the best revenge is a long and happy life.
And yes, I practice a balanced life. When mental work is too much I employ recreational therapy. I have built additions to my home, learned electrical, plumbing, construction, roofing and a host of other jobs. My favorite remains “tractor therapy” however. When overwhelmed by work at the not for profit that I founded (10-12 hr shifts are the norm Monday – Friday) I am often heard saying “To the Farm” as my little PT Cruiser putts up the road. “Red” my tractor, will soon be supplying a much needed session. I will return home ready to tackle a new day with new clients.
No matter how stressful our jobs can be, do not give up on your clients as they will not give up on you…
Warren Corson III (Doc Warren) is a counselor and the clinical & executive director of a community counseling agency in central CT (www.docwarren.org).