Looking Out the Window

It was Friday afternoon and I was exhausted. My clinical supervisor was impossible to please and she seemed to know all of my vulnerabilities. I wasn’t sure at all that I’d survive three months there.

The house the hospital provided for its various students was hot, sparsely furnished, and nearly as depressing as the heat and smog outdoors. Everyone else had left and I was flopped on the vinyl couch waiting until time to walk to the bus stop for the ride home. I knew I would stick to that vinyl when it was time to get up but was beyond caring. Continue reading

The Anger Within

My psychology professor finished up his informal assessment of each of us in his small counseling and interviewing class by telling me that I was a young woman with a lot of anger inside. He hoped he wouldn’t be around when I blew.

I got back to my dorm room, threw myself on my bed, and began pounding my pillow. “How can he say I’m angry?? I was but I’m grown up now and I. AM. NOT. ANGRY.”A little slow on the uptake, I finally got it. Continue reading