There, some changes to this blog. I’m not sure how it will turn out on your screen but it looks ok on mine.
I’m starting on a new placement this coming Monday. It will be full time for 4 weeks and then drop back to 2 1/2 days per week. The advantage is, I will finish this placement by mid-october. The disadvantage, is that I can’t do testing for the next 4 weeks! You can’t win all.
The orientation was fine. Free flow of coffee, tea and snacks. As it is a psychiatric hospital, it’s always busy. There is a constant buzz, doctors, nurses, OTs, SWs, Clin Psychs, attendants walking around. For some strange reasons, I felt intimated. Not by the buzz mind you, but by how people introduce themselves or perhaps it is by the fact that pretty much everyone there was a UWA graduate. Each person who heard “Murdoch” had the “Oh” look. My supervisor and clinic manager appeared shocked when I said I visited familes during my last placement. There is a sense of distance from patients/clients. It’s like as if patients belong to one world, and therapists in another. Perhaps it’s the professional distance that enable them to work more efficently. Who knows, perhaps in another few weeks time, I might just walk around and see clients like them (I honestly hope not). Or maybe I’m too hasty in my judgement. My first full day hasnt even started yet.
I have been assigned to 4 weeks of intensive CBT group therapy. I’m suppose to observe for the first 2 weeks and then faciltate in the next 2. Maybe some facilitating will do my “black and white”, “over generalization”, “personlization” and “catastrophication” thoughts some good.
Whatever the case is, I feel exhausted.
It is moments like these that made me realise that I’m not as strong as I would like to be. Working isnt easy, researching isnt easy and the next person who says studying in Australia thus getting an undergraduate, masters, doctorate or PhD is easy ought to be strangled. Breakdown isnt easy too. It makes me feel too weak. Perhaps it’s my pride that is preventing me from breaking down.
But I did.
And just like others, I moved on. A good cry with a good vent is all I need to move on. I certainly hope I’m back onto my focus self (focusing where is another issue…) and perform to the best of my abilities on this new placement.
If not, you can always count on the psychiatric hospital to provide me with some intensive CBT treatment I suppose. Please, just drag me out if a psychiatrist wants to put electricity through my head to correct my brain chemistry. I’m not making a judgemental comment. It’s just my personal preference. I’m not sure what I might feel if I do see this procedure. Perhaps I should…
Have a good Sunday people.