I try not to blog about work very often because my best stories are either confidential or borderline, but anyone who knows me well knows I love indigent criminal defense. It was such a dream come true for me to finally get paid to do it. But doing the work full time hasn't changed the fact that I'm very emotionally involved in the lives of my clients.
During my very first public defender internship, my supervising attorney (Zaki) asked me to leave a client meeting because I started crying. Afterwards, I asked for the client's address so I could send him cat food (it makes sense in the long version). Zaki taught me so many things by example during the semester I fell in love with the career that could rip my heart out, but the only direct criticism he ever really gave me was, "At some point, you're going to have to grow some boundaries."
I like to think I've gotten a little better. I now have access to the mailing address of 124 clients and never send cat food to a single one of them. No matter how difficult it is. But I'm still overly invested in their actions, which I have shockingly little influence over.
I love and hate my clients. They write me crazy letters; they send me funny drawings; they yell and ramble and laugh and cry into my voicemail. They make me yell, ramble, laugh, and cry too. They also make me feel fulfilled, feel guilty, feel appreciated, and feel that I am depriving people of their Constitutional right to competent counsel.
 |
| This is a self-portrait of a client who asked me to please not forget that he is incarcerated. |
 |
| This is from a client who is very proud to be Native American |
My confidence in my competence as an attorney is attached to whether I'm able to make a difference in their lives... which makes me feel constantly guilty and worried that my exhaustion, busy-ness, and professional interpersonal conflicts will affect them negatively.
I have a therapist-friend who enjoys biking and giving unsolicited advice (in his defense, I use him as my personal counselor more often than I should, so he probably gets confused about when advice is being solicited). He says that if I don't learn to control how much of myself is invested in my clients' behaviors, I won't be able to stay in a job like this long term.
I am not sure how I feel about that. I know that I am sometimes emotionally exhausted by being disappointed or frustrated or even heartbroken about the actions of people I can't control. Biking Therapist calls it codependent and has a book about it.
I've had jobs I didn't care about... jobs where every Friday morning was take-your-burrito-to-work day because every Thursday night was dance-and-drink-tequila-until-2am day. Those jobs served their purpose of financing my burrito and tequila habit but didn't give me much else.
So here's the thing... hopefully, we are choosing jobs because we care about them, right? How do you separate caring about your job from caring so much about your job that it eats you alive? How do you care about what happens to people (clients, friends, or acquaintances) without making their successes and failures and joys and heartaches your own?
Speak up kids. Give my pro-bono therapist a break and tell me how come all of you aren't crazypants at work.
Well, here is the thing, I am the same way. When you learn how to make those boundaries, let me know. I will check out this book. Annnnd, I am very proud of you for not sending cat food to all your clients!
ReplyDeleteOh, Mary! I can relate.
ReplyDeleteMy last job almost DID eat me alive but I learned better boundaries there too. The word "no" wasn't in my vocabulary prior to maybe last year (other than telling myself "NO" all the time...). I told a friend that "I feel the need to say yes to anyone who asks me to do anything unless they're asking me to rape and pillage." Seriously. I've written college papers for my ex-boss (the original request was "Can you help me edit my papers?") No. I can't anymore.
I started (I'm actually really bad at finishing) a book called "Boundaries" by some guys named Cloud & Townsend. I realized that the religion of my upbringing contributed a great deal to the overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility I have borne daily throughout my life. Not to mention that I'm the child of two "Adult Children of Alcoholics." Codependency is my first language. My therapist said to me one time, "So, you're your parents' therapist?" Pretty much. Or at least I have been. I'm getting better at breaking up with other people's problems. And I'm getting better at recognizing that what other people told me about what God wanted me to do was a lot of bullshit. Surprisingly, God has means of communicating with me that don't involve a guilt trip from my mom or dad!
I told my therapist that I feel guilty when I'm doing ok, because other people I care about aren't doing ok, and even though I know it's their own damned fault I still feel sorry for them. I want to "fix" them. But I can't.
So, work. It's just another place where I have to set some boundaries. I started a new job recently and so far I haven't checked my email outside of work hours. I anticipate that at some point this may become an issue because I've noticed that people who've been here for several years send emails at 11:30pm and on Saturdays. I really hope I can hold my ground. I'm trying to learn to keep my work-life and my life-life somewhat separate this time around. I'll let you know how that goes.
Here's my advice: You have to stand up for your own sanity. Nobody else can or will. You can say "no" or just think "no" and not feel guilty. It is your right to set your own boundaries. My therapist gave me this helpful tidbit: "If people aren't used to hearing you say 'No,' the first few times you say it, they're going to be mad. Then, after a while, they're going to realize that you and your time are valuable too." The next big problem after getting over other people being mad at me is letting go of the inordinate feelings of guilt that plague me. That's a work in progress.
Hi Mary,
ReplyDeleteI so appreciate your blog and can relate personally and professionally. My "calling" (I thought) was in mental health care, and I did all the research, got into grad school, and while I was finishing my psych undergrad started working as a PSRW (psychosocial rehabilitation worker) with clients with severe mental illness, most of which were suicidal teenage girls. It seemed common sense to have some experience in the field before entering into my graduate program. Long, painful story short, I couldn't handle it. Although I loved the work, I became so emotionally invested in my clients' lives (how can you not?) that I found myself exhibiting classic signs of depression. I lost interest in the things I loved doing because I felt sad, heavy, and powerless all the time, and the longer I did it, the more evident that powerlessness became. By nature of their diagnoses my clients were not going to get better in a hurry, but the aspect that tortured me most was that these minors were basically products AND at the mercy of their totally dysfunctional, unaccountable, self-destructive parents. I couldn't change the parents, I could only help my clients learn new skills to cope with their erratic and shameless behaviors. The harder I tried to stay committed and focused on my clients' rehab, the more depressed I got, despite being acutely aware of my own struggles with setting emotional boundaries. It became crystal clear that, although I may learn about it in grad school, my ability to APPLY clinical detachment was zilch.
After a terrifying experience with a client who overdosed in my car on the freeway and became physically aggressive while I was driving, I had to quit and then went through the process of realizing this wasn't the career for me after all. I was SO excited to get cracking on my masters in clinical psych, but couldn't justify the cost and other resources that would be needed to complete a graduate program in something I wasn't sure I could actually do. All my energy was focused on building my career. The whole experience was devastating.
Since then I have come to realize that there is nothing wrong with my tenderness toward humanity, but I had to figure out the ways I could contribute my energies without it destroying me in the process. Grad school is still in the back of my mind - industrial/organizational psych - and I now work in a professional environment where I am salaried, have a quiet and peaceful office, flexible schedule, and work stress that is totally manageable. In my free time I volunteer at the humane society and have had more energy for the loved ones in my life. My career story is certainly not over, but I will never forget that huge turning point where my limitations were yelling at me to rethink things.
I'm sure with an awareness of your own sensitivity (a psych term for this is ‘social intelligence’) you will be able to navigate the personal demands of your career in ways that work for you. I really like Bethany's comment, "You have to stand up for your own sanity. Nobody else can or will." There was a lot of embarrassment and shock at my own reactions to my clients' suffering - reactions that I couldn't detect in any of my colleagues - and I had to process those feelings too. Being able to stand up for your own sanity starts with being honest with yourself. It's a long and challenging process, but one that can only give you new insight into what you are truly capable of. In the meantime, I know the humane society would welcome any extra cat food!
Laura
I'm probably not the best person to offer advice here since I definitely have issues with setting up too many boundaries/walls.
ReplyDeleteSo: I love you and what Bethany said.
-Alaina
P.S. Why is it so damn hard to leave a comment here!!!
Alaina,
DeleteThis is why we were fantastic roommates. I took in our homeless friends when they needed help, and you kicked them out when they drank our poma-tinis. Would you come to work with me?
Alaina might think she has issues with too many boundaries and walls, and it may be true but she is by no means closed off from caring about others. She's one of the best friends ever. She's the kind of friend who, when you suddenly lose your job and have no money, shows up at your door with three bags full of groceries. She's also the kind of friend who sends you books in the mail when you're feeling bad, and she has her own unique ways of being one of the most caring people ever. And yes, I did just respond to Alaina by talking about her like she isn't here. A, I love you. And I don't care who knows it.
DeleteThat's true. She also is the kind of friend who buys you a suitcase when you want to move to Spain but are too afraid to commit to the decision because everyone else in your life is discouraging you.
DeleteI will extricate myself from the category of kids, but I love your question of separating from boundaries that you love, so here's my initial reactive answer:
DeleteUnderstand that if you don't setup these boundaries to things you love, you won't be able to handle them as well or put as much of yourself into it as you desire. You may get swamped or overran and possibly ask yourself "Why am I doing this again?" Scheduled time away with some healthy boundaries could very well renew your love for what you do and, when you are ready to take down the boundary, charge back in there full force. When setting up this boundary, tell yourself over and over again until you fully believe it that "The occasional boundary to my passion is GOOD for my passion."
To put it another way, if you see someone drowning, as much as you'd love to immediately dive in after them, you have to make sure you don't drown first, so you can save them.