Ante up

My husband says I need to ante up. I need to put my own stuff on the table.

This is obviously a group I need to lead, and to push at. Why do these guys think I’m here? I know they are alert enough to see the car I drive, to see my jewelry and my clothes. I am not poor. I am not here for survival. So why?

I assumed, when I started, that I would just be awash in a sea of sickness. That I would walk through my days with animals and monsters. Isn’t that what we are taught about felons? It held a clinical interest, one I didn’t think would hold my attention for long. Evil is boring. Bad behavior is tedious. Trash is trash.

Holy crap was I wrong. Once again, my mother understood better than I. my patients are people: as my husband dubbed them, they are “my guys.” Some are monsters, a few. I don’t spend my time or energy there. Perhaps this is a weakness. I prefer to rationalize that I save my energy for those that can benefit.

What is my ante?

My energy. I do not have an unlimited amount of energy I can give. For each moment, I have a recovery period of solitude needed to regenerate. This is reason five I never had children. I could not do my work and have enough left for a family.

My belief. When I interact, I prefer to believe that what is happening is real. That I am not being parroted or indulged. My groups do not support parole, and I emphasize this clearly. No parole form for you. Come because it helps, or don’t come.

Each time somebody lies, or somebody sits silent and drifting, I lose. Each group that sets on fire and becomes self sufficient, I win the bet. I do not win by people pretending to believe. I gain by making change.

I read this and the analogy sounds cold. How much easier this would be if true? As it is, it eats up my life at home.

So what would their response be if I gave them this?

There are a couple of theories of treatment. The first is dry and clinical and safe. The second involves the therapist in the process, challenges her to be her best, and to give some part of herself in exchange for what she receives in return. I am doomed to the second way.