Creating Happily Ever After
Do little girls still want to be princesses when they grow up? Do little boys dream of going into outer space? The dreams that I hear from the kids I work with have been much more realistic: “I want to have a family again” … “I want us to be happy … .” As of late I have seen a growing trend in my private practice of messy divorces. Divorce is difficult in itself when all parties included see eye-to-eye and parents are getting along. Take one neglectful parent, add in various children, multiply by lawyers and custody hearings and you have one recipe for disaster.
Divorce at times is inevitable—I know this. I also know I am a therapist and it is part of my job to be non-judgmental, but I must admit I have been judging. I have been judging those parents that “walked out” of their children’s lives for various reasons. I have been judging those parents that pick and choose which of their children they’d like to see and which they could do without seeing. I have been judging and I can’t seem to stop myself. Granted I have my moments of, “Well maybe I don’t know the whole picture” or “Maybe there is a whole other side of the story?” But, if I am being honest, I meet these broken-hearted and innocent children … and I judge. I am human.
So now I have these adorable and sweet, scared and angry children in my office. With each story they tell me and each painting they create I am often left wondering about their happily ever afters. We read stories at times not thinking of what a 6-year-old may take from it. When we read, “And they lived happily ever after,” do they think, “What about me?” Sure most of what I am doing is preventative work; Mom/dad has recently walked out leaving holes in their lives and hearts. Holes that don’t get filled with all the toys or candy the “staying” parent can buy. I was recently working with a 10-year-old girl who almost appeared numb to the fact that her father had walked out of her life. She was able to create a cheerful sand-tray world and play with toys provided. But when I questioned her about the last time she got angry this young girl went from thinking to immediate sadness. Her affect changed along with her posture. She lost eye contact with me completely. She told me a story about a pet that had passed away, and with most of the story she cried. I validated her sadness but continued to question about the anger. The anger was towards dad. This young girl remembered vividly that on the day her pet was dying on the kitchen floor, her father, coldly, stepped over him and left to go fishing, without acknowledging the loss this house and family was about to feel. She questioned so much of this one action that her father had taken. But she was left with no answers—only tears.
I have worked with children of divorce for years now and it never gets any easier. I knew that this girl I was working with was associating her sadness towards dad leaving as her anger—and appropriately so. She communicates herself so eloquently for her age; “Sometimes when I get angry I get really sad and I cry.” I suppose if I was mostly angry because of “sad” things, I’d cry too.
A few years ago I was working with another young girl who also did not have her father in her life. Her story, and how it differs from the first, was that she had never known her father. She was old enough to know that dad was in the picture right up until a few weeks after she was born. Her sand-trays portrayed guilt and anger, mostly towards herself. “This is your fault!” This was something she shouted at a figure, eerily similar to herself looks-wise. Throughout our sessions she continued to show the events of her life: some good, some bad, but all without her father. At the end of one session the little girl traveled to a far-away land, in a forest and came upon her “daddy” and, you guessed it, they lived “happily ever after.”
As I continue to work with these children I find that I need to help them conquer their own happily ever after—be it school, friends, family, make believe or others. Strategically placed figures outside a sand-tray, creating happiness with art, and writing their own stories—as they see them. So far we are making great strides in building up self-esteem and character, illustrating the positives—the “happy”—in their lives and focusing on how strong those positives can be. Is this enough to help them with their “once upon a time?” Well I am no fairy godmother but I certainly hope my Therapist Fairy Dust is up to par!
Storms come and go. And come. And go …
Working with teens can be trying; nothing new there. They have difficult issues that come up often and they are not easily swayed from believing they are right … about EVERYTHING.
I have girls and boys ages 13 through 18 in my after-school teen group interacting with one another. Sometimes we have BFFs and sometimes we don’t! Recently a co-worker and myself had a great group process session—amazing participation and tremendous feedback from everyone. But when things seem to be going well with the teens you can sense the storm coming. The first group ended and it was cleaer that one of the older teens was not in a good mood; she appeared angry and began to isolate without any precipitant as far as we could see. Another concerned young lady began to question her about what was going on with her mood …
BOOM! Thunder and lightning.
Before I knew what was happening I was hearing the word b*tch and girls were screaming, crying and cursing. Granted only two girls (at this time) were involved, but the volume would have led you to believe it was a full-on battle royale. While trying to contain the situation it seemed to get better … then worse … and then appeared to mellow out for good. But before all was said and done I was left with one girl stating, “I don’t feel safe here anymore;” another girl saying so and so is “such a b*tch;” and one more girl who was innocently dragged into all of this was crying silently, feeling as if all that unfolded was her fault. One of the girls who appeared to have started much of the chaos stated, “I was just saying how I felt, I wasn’t even being mean.” Sigh.
The teens went home—emotionally hurt; therapists left—exhausted.
I decided even before the next day began that some type of group-cohesiveness-building activity was much needed. And when next the day started the tension was still pretty thick. I felt the storm clouds moving back in and thought to myself, Oh no, not again?!
Everyone was brought together for a group mural exercise. The paper was laid out and only crayons and colored pencils were given. The group was told to use the art materials provided to illustrate with words or images what they, as individuals, find hurtful. The entire paper was filled with some disturbing words and thoughts: fat, anorexic b*tch, stupid, f%ck-up, a burden, ugly, give up, crazy, not worth it, hate, etc. It was a lot to take in. The group was told to get up and walk around and see if they could find anything that they would say is not hurtful. Some people did point out some words or phrases that they stated would not necessarily hurt them … but they were able to see why the words could possibly be seen as hurtful to someone else. Some even stated, “This is why you have to think before you say something.”
It sure is.
The next step was for the group to take markers and paint and cover the negative mural they had created with positivity. They were told to use other words, phrases or images that they would want to hear or like to hear. The group became energized at this point. Teens were walking around finding empty spots to paint, cover words, changing phrases from negative to positive. They were laughing, talking and—dare I say?—bonding! Relief swept over the therapists’ faces as the group appeared to become whole again. The chatter included some saying “You’re not fat;” “No one should call you stupid;” “People don’t understand how much words can hurt.” No they certainly don’t.
The group may or may not have learned the lesson I was trying to convey—what you may not think is hurtful for you could be for someone else—but I happily accepted the idea that the drama had been squashed and we were ready to move on together as a group.
Bridging the Gaps to Recovery
When working with addicted adolescents it can be difficult to get them engaged … and keep them that way. In a recent group comprised of both substance-abuse and straight mental health clients I proposed the topic of “A Bridge Over Troubled Water”—obviously not my most original title. I played the famous song by Simon and Garfunkel and proceeded to open a discussion about who in our lives could be our “bridge” and what we may need a bridge for. The discussion led to thinking about what is waiting for us on the other side of our bridges. And from there we created:
Create a bridge over your own troubled water. Where is your bridge starting and where is it ending? What lies in the water underneath your bridge? What is waiting for you or encouraging you to get to the other side? Where are you currently on your bridge?
Everyone worked furiously on this project, more so than I had seen with past directives. They were focused, and chose to utilize all materials that were provided. Those that were self-proclaimed “horrible artists” were not doing their typical pessimistic self-talk, and those that are always eager for art therapy immediately left the table and took to the floor for more space.
One young man, “T,” who was battling addiction to “Roxies,” was particularly involved in his art, and caught my eye. He was cutting colorful paper and drawing his bridge with careful precision. He colored … and looked … and thought … deeply thought (you could see it in his eyes). When time was up he continued to work, stating he was almost done (he was not alone; several people continued to work while we discussed). Others shared and spoke about their own struggles: depression, anxiety, unsupportive family members, relationships, self-esteem, etc. I was hoping that someone with addiction would speak up and share because it seemed that they were the most closed-off group in terms of diagnosis.
“T” held up his picture, letting me know he was done and ready to share. The image he created really moved several group members. He described it as follows: “My bridge is here and I am nearing the end of the bridge, to the good side. My water has everything that tries to hold me back: sadness, pain, loneliness, misery, hopelessness, and addiction.”
Addiction was mentioned last, but he then went on to say that he created water that showed the tension of what he was feeling; when he cut out the snake-like image he felt compelled to title that part of his work “addiction.” To him addiction was like a snake: it seemed evil and as if it could follow him and strangle him if he allowed it to. He knew that it is always there but he tries to stay focused on his positive side, the goals he wants to achieve; the future he sees for himself. The others in the room that also struggle with addiction appeared to agree whole-heartedly in what he said. Many were especially taken by the image of a snake.
Later in the day “T” revealed to me that a “snake” attempted to slither its way back into his life through the words of an old acquaintance: Hey, man do you wanna come with me on a ‘blues’ run? (‘Blues’ refer to the same opiates “T” was addicted to.) “T” explained that he was so surprised by how easy it was to say no, but being in art therapy earlier that day allowed him to realize these snakes and gaps in the road would continue to come and go but he had to trust that he was on the right bridge leading him to a better life. I assured him he was. It was after this meeting that I was able to understand why he was so focused earlier in the day: he really felt that this art directive was chosen as a sign for him to keep pushing forward.
Your time has come to shine all your dreams are on their way. See how they shine.
If you need a friend I’m sailing right behind like a bridge over troubled water.
We Must Banish Bullying. Period.
When I first heard the story of a local teen who committed suicide by walking in front of a bus I had instant chills sent throughout my body. I know some people are beginning to feel unaffected because this is happening so often all across the country, but I am still shaken to my core by the idea of wasted lives at the hands of cowards. Those cowards are bullies—and I think it’s time that more than just schools become involved in this battle.
Amanda Cummings was just one out of many that most will regrettably forget a month from now. Her family and friends won’t. I wonder if the kids who tormented her will forget as well? I am not concerned over this; I am angry. My anger extends from my personal beliefs to my professional viewpoint. As a therapist who works with both the bullies and the bullied I am all too used to this type of behavior. Honestly speaking I do not think it is solely the schools’ responsibility to monitor and punish bullies because I think much of modern bullying is now accomplished via technology—online social networks and texting, etc.—in order to prey on their victims. It is, after all, the more cowardly way to go about things. It gives them anonymity, a blanket under which to spew hatred, with a slight separation from real life. But what these bullies need to be taught is this is real life. A real life was taken last week and will not come back. Anti-bullying classes should be made mandatory in our education system and parents—yes, parents!—should be enrolled in their own courses on recognizing signs that your child is a bully, or is being bullied. I say this mostly because I think many of these so-called “bullies” learn these actions from the people they are living with.
The truth hurts, but that is the truth nonetheless.
You may disagree with the stance that I am taking on this but I feel it’s necessary to strongly voice my frustration over this issue. Legislation should be involved as well at this particular point: If you are caught bullying in person or via the cyber world there should be a series repercussions, escalating with severity; for example, a fine that your family has to pay to those affected or perhaps to a charity, or having the offender spend time in the Juvenile Court system in your state. Being suspended from school does not send a message to stop; it is certainly not a strong enough deterrent. In fact, many times it exacerbates the behavior.
I am pleading for actual help for these children—bullies and the bullied—so they can become productive members of society. Or maybe just so they can survive their adolescence! Harsh? Maybe. Helpful? Absolutely! Get them therapy and education. It has to become clearer that this is an unacceptable behavior. Each school should have its own “bully” protocol (specific administrator, hotline, anonymous email address, etc.), and even the popular social networking sites should have the same support system for help plugged in as well. (I have recently heard about a perspective tool for Facebook that would allow someone to get help for themselves or someone else with just the click of a button. That’s a great start, but not if it will take years to implement or even longer to gain kids’ trust in using it.) These “holes” in our system are tearing apart our children’s lives. I don’t fear for the future anymore—I fear for next week, for there will always be a new way for kids to torment each other cruelly. It is going to continue getting worse before it gets better, and that’s the scariest part for me as a mother (in the near future), aunt, therapist, and, most importantly, as a member of my community.
Those crying out silently for help need just that—help! More counselors in schools, more varied therapists: music therapists, art therapists, drama, and movement therapists. Let’s reach these kids on a level they can relate to. When it’s school budget time again, will bullying strategies be put into the agenda? What resources can and should be added? It’s about time we make anti-bullying a priority.
I am angry about what happened to Amanda Cummings. I feel the anger of her family and her friends. I am angry with her community and her school. But I am also heartbroken for those who had a part in making this girl feel so small; heartbroken because I do not believe they are going to get the help that they need. I am pleading to therapists and parents, schools and doctors, our government and representatives: Open your eyes and look at what is happening. Look at the whole picture; take it all in. It is not just one person’s responsibility to police bullying. This issue falls on all of us, and I truly believe we all have blood on our hands from the lives of any child who turns to suicide. I believe we can and should do more. I encourage you to write to your local and/or federal representatives and share your views. I know I will be as soon as this last period hits the keyboard.
Taking a Gamble on Glitter
Working with adult groups for Art Therapy can be a trying experience. I get the occasional moans and groans: Here comes the art lady with her crayons and markers again. The resistance is definitely there and it can be quite thick at times! I am never really bothered by it because I have seen the artwork produced, and the results people get from the groups, and so I know with all of the complaining they are still taking something away from it.
Recently I had a mixed group of both mental health issues and dual diagnoses, males (several addicts) and females, ages raging from 18 to 62. It was quite the group! The male addicts were the most resistant to the art directive given to them, which was to create their own “tree of life”—and in the spirit of Christmas they could choose to make it a Christmas tree if they wanted (which they all did). The bottom of the tree was to consist of things they don’t need or want in their lives but must deal with those things being there: traffic, annoying bosses, obnoxious people, taxes, work, cravings to use, etc. As you continue to move up the tree you begin to add the things that you love, need, want in your life—the things you can’t do without and you are happy to have. The top of the tree was the place left to express what was most important to them: mindfulness, transportation, being happy, making money, staying sober, friends, family, job, enjoying oneself, having self-control, Jennifer Aniston (wishful thinking), music, art, nice people, health …
It was a fantastic group that moved along well. Everyone understood the concept and everyone wanted to complete their trees. They had various art materials to choose from for making and decorating their trees: crayons, pencils, markers, pastels, glitter, and collage materials. The women in the group gravitated towards the glitter fairly quickly. Then one gentleman, coping with alcoholism, reached out and dove into the glitter as well. Then the heroin user who HATES the idea of having to do art. Then the alcoholic of many years who hardly speaks and always says “I’m not artistic.”
Before I knew it the table was covered with red, green, silver, and gold glitter and people were smiling and trying to remember the last time they used glitter. “I don’t think I’ve ever used glitter;” “I think it had to be in elementary school.” They were in disbelief. When the project was complete everyone went around and shared some of what they had written and created. The struggling heroin addict—smiling—asked if he shouldstand up and show everyone his art. They were proud.
One of the men asked if they all could “hang up” their trees because he found them to be inspiring and “pretty.” And so, just when I thought I was as impresed as I could be by the power of art, glitter upped the ante!
Inspiration surrounds you, love is the movement
We are all human. Everyone has their good days along with their bad. Sometimes you walk out of a group or session thinking it couldn’t have gone worse. I’ve been there; I’m sure we all have. Likewise we have all felt as if things could not have gone any better. Do you ever congratulate yourself on a great session? I do.
I was recently working with a 14-year-old girl. Typical background of depression, anxiety, self-harm and overall feeling overwhelmed with life. She’s “artsy” and speaks her mind and I suppose that’s why we connected quickly, but I’m not certain. But she slowly began to open up to me about her struggles. She was on a clean streak of no cutting; 20 days turned to 27 days which turned to 31 which then hit 40. Fourty days without cutting. This was HUGE! And I made sure to tell her how proud I was of her every time as the number of days continued to rise. She was anxious about it—though that might be an understatement. She was completely freaking out about it! And not in the good way that I had hoped she would.
When she hit the 31-day mark she presented as highly anxious; couldn’t sit still, kept asking if she could leave, was up and pacing all around the office. I finally said, “Let’s talk.” Granted she was not “assigned” to me but clearly she was about to crawl out of her skin and I had to find out what was happening.
She told me about the 31 days clear of cutting and said that she really felt as if she needed to cut soon. We talked—and talked and talked. She explained that it had been difficult to not cut, but this week was especially hard. Why? ”My friend gave me something.” What? And out of her pocket came a crumpled and rolled up ziplock baggie which contained a tiny razor blade and in black marker was written “I love you, stay strong.” I realized that this young lady had been walking around with this “weapon” contemplating harming herself for a week. A WHOLE WEEK! I went from proud, to impressed, to inspiried. I tried to explain to her that this was a big accomplishment, but all she could focus on was the bag in her hand. I began talking about how we could get rid of it: throw it out, hand it over to someone you trust, etc. We stopped talking and I put my hand out …
She looked at the bag … then my hand … then the bag. We stayed silent for a moment.
She ever-so-gently placed the bag in my hand. She stopped wiggling around and I asked her how she felt. “I dunno,” she answered. She exhaled deeply and then had to leave because her mother had come to pick her up. I reiterated that she made a mature and smart decision and I told her to have a good weekend.
Days later she continued on her “no-cut” streak and then, sadly, her mother decided to pull her from the program. She came to me and told me this and asked if she could write me a letter at the end of group. She wrote me a few touching sentences about how she liked talking with me and that she was going to miss coming to program. I was not present on her last day of program but when I returned to work there was a sealed home-made envelope waiting for me. Inside was a typed letter—a 14 year-old had written and typed me a letter!
As if that wasn’t enough to move me, her words continued to amaze me. She spoke about how I inspired her to not cut and how her goal is to keep it going for 60 days. She spoke about how she has gained skills and knowledge in the program—although her mother chose not to see her progress. She went as far as saying that she is alive today because of me and that her mindset over the past week had been that she wanted to tell me she continued not to cut; that was what motivated her.
She included a bracelet inside the envelope; one of her own. It was a soft rubber band with the words “LOVE IS THE MOVEMENT.” The bracelet meant a lot to her as she told me about how she acquired it. She ended the letter by saying that she wants to help people in the same way that I helped her. I was beyond inspired. I was also disappointed because I don’t think I ever explained to this girl how much of an inspiration she is to me. I’m hoping she knows.
How to Collage Your Way to Self-Esteem
I recently ran a teen group geared towards the concept of self-esteem. With teens, in my experience, it goes two ways: Either they have the self-esteem of a renowned genius or they wouldn’t know what self-esteem was if it bit them on their behinds! For this particular teen group, unfortunately, it seemed none of them had received a compliment in quite some time—so we had a lot of work to do. Collage materials were provided, which are always a huge hit. They often rummage through piles, choosing images and words that they relate to or find appealing. The topic assigned was to collage the many parts of your personality with the help of a Jekyl and Hyde introduction. The concept was welcomed and they began to cut and paste.
Many of the teens really took to the concept and worked out mini personality maps: “Me on my best day” versus “Me on my worst day.” Some just used the time to create a collage of things they enjoy. When this task was completed they were asked to pick apart their personality and think of the parts they are happy about.
All I heard were crickets. They were stumped.
Like so many similar kids I work with, when it comes time to pat themselves on the back they freeze like deer in headlights. I finally stated to them, “Well, okay, then just tell me one thing about yourself in general that you like?” Still like pulling teeth, they stamered a bit but a few were able to throw out some lines such as, “I like my hair,” “I think I have pretty eyes,” “I’m nice, I guess?” and some still said nothing.
I explained to them my frustrations with this conversation and I asked them each to name one thing about themselves they do not like. Results? The answer should be obvious. The paper was not long enough to list the things these teens were writing: “I hate my weight,” “I have a weird nose,” “I’m shy,” “I’m bitchy,” “I have no real friends,” “I’m too short,” “I get depressed a lot,” “I have a bad temper”… and on and on.
Afterwards I asked each teen to write something nice about every other person in the room. Mind you there were a few new members in the group on this day so not everyone knew each other that well. But they had no problem immediately thinking of complementary statements about their peers. I then had them go around and read each statement to the person and I watched as smiles widened, eyes opened, cheeks blushed and conversations flourished.
Yes it may have been awkward at first, but once they started talking it was as if they were feeding each others’ starved egos. At the end of this session the teens were asked to create an image based on this experience. We did not have enough time to go through each image and discuss them as a group but watching the use of bright colors and upbeat images led me to believe that through what their peers wrote about them, each teen was able to get a much needed esteem-boost. They appeared more relaxed and content, and new conversations between pairs of teens began. Those that were hiding under their hoodies were now cracking jokes and showing a more playful side. Those that had their heads down were sitting up and engaging with others around them.
I think I might have to start every session this way …
