Writing as therapy.

I have always been interested in writing.  I remember when my family got our very first computer; it was a Macintosh Apple, and at the time, it cost a few thousand dollars.  I don't really remember much about it except that I was too short to turn it on manually, so my dad installed a set of switches on the computer desk that he custom-built for it.

Why am I harking back to that time in my life -- a good 20+ years ago?  Well, because that's when I first began to love writing.  At first, I only typed using my index fingers, but even without typing "properly," I was able to churn out stories much faster than I was able to do so by hand (which had held me back prior to that).

From margokelley.net

The first stories I remember writing were about dogs.  I really wish I could get my hands on the hard drive of that old Mac, because I'd love to reread some of my earliest fiction.  I'm sure it was horrible, but it entertained me to no end.  I don't remember how much time per day I was allotted for computer time, but I remember having folders upon folders of short stories, all in various stages of completion.

And then I discovered the magical, wonderful world of Redwall -- a fantasy series written by Brian Jacques, wherein animals (such as mice, squirrels, rabbits/hares, and weasels) played the main roles.  After I read the first few books in the series, I began to write Redwall fanfiction -- although at the time, I had no idea that fanfic was even "a thing."

In the 20 years since I first discovered Redwall, aside from a few early years of writing fanfic, I have not delved back into that type of writing.  However, I very much love to write, and in fact, if I don't write something in a day, it feels as though I've missed a very valuable part of the day.  That something could be a response to a thought-provoking post on one of the multitude of forums where I am a member; it could be a typed up journal entry; it could be a rough first draft of a poem; it could be a handwritten journal entry; it could be a blog post.

I think if I were to thank my parents for just one thing, I would thank them for instilling in me a love of reading -- because for me, reading led quite naturally to me writing.  To this day, I still love to read, and -- as aforementioned -- writing is a very integral part of who I am.

And now, as a therapist, I can use writing as therapy, whether for others, or for my own healing.  Even if I don't bring it into my work with kids, it's still something that -- for me, personally -- brings a lot of satisfaction, joy, and sometimes even peace.  It depends what I write about, of course -- therapeutic writing is generally not terribly pleasant, but the end result is worth it.  Feelings of peace, of cleanliness, or even just relief from whatever it is that has been on my mind -- that's all worth it to me.

From becomingwhoyouare.net

There was a book I read awhile ago (perhaps 5 years ago?), about the use of metaphor in healing.  I don't really think I took much away from it at the time... but in the past few months, I've started writing short stories that metaphorically relate to painful parts of my life.  I guess they're somewhat allegorical in nature.  And it truly is healing, although in a somewhat roundabout way.  There is one that I just wrote today; I am considering polishing it up a bit (that's the editor in me!) and then perhaps posting it somewhere -- not for critiquing, since I don't intend on publishing it anywhere -- but just to share and see if anyone else gets anything out of it.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, except to suggest that maybe you can try writing, if you're feeling stuck, sad, alone...  You don't have to be perfect to use writing as a means to bring about healing for you or those you care about.  Grammar and spelling don't have to be perfect.  As long as you write from your heart, from your soul -- that's all you need.

Go ahead.  Try it.  I know people who are too afraid to write -- afraid that the wrong people will access whatever is written down* -- afraid that their writing won't be deemed good enough -- afraid that they'll fail before they even start.  But if you don't start, if you don't challenge yourself to step out of your comfort zone and "just write" -- then you'll never get past those messages in your head of "I can't do this" or "I'm not good enough" or "everyone is going to judge me."

Just try.  Trying is all I can ask of anyone -- including myself.  Writing can be scary, especially if, in the past, you've been told that you don't have the skills to write by a teacher, a professor, a parent.  But you can teach yourself to view writing in a totally different way -- if you just pick up the pen (or pencil) and start.  Maybe you could even start with something relatively innocuous -- something not terribly personal.  Perhaps an essay on current events, or a story that you could read to kids, if there are any in your life.

Try it.  Dive into the world of words.  I can't promise you that it will be as magical for you as it is for me, but then -- if you've never tried, you'll never know.  And if you have bad memories associated with writing, then -- when you are ready -- replace those bad memories with good ones.

From fanpop.com

Cheering you all on,
Addison.

* I know that this is a valid fear for many people out there, including one of my close friends.  However, there are ways around this.  Have a password-protected Word document on your computer.  Have a private/locked blog where only you can write, and you can choose who can see what.  Create a Gmail account, keep the password private, and open up a Google doc and write there.  If you don't have regular access to a computer/internet, then have a notebook that you can keep with you at all times.  You can mix up your serious writing in the notebook with mundane things -- shopping lists (or lists of any sort), doodles, etc.  Alternatively, you could keep an art journal, or use other artistic means to express yourself.  E.g., one of my friends is afraid of people finding her personal writing and using it to hurt her (which has happened in the past) -- so instead, she uses photography to capture her everyday life.

The magic of music.

As long as I can remember, music has been something I've loved.  Music is as essential to me as oxygen is.  I listen to music; I play music.  I'm the obnoxious person who sings in the shower, no matter the time.  If I'm thinking about something deeply (or if I'm anxious), my fingers will most likely be moving of their own accord, to the rhythm of a song that no one else can hear.

I've been a pianist for 21 years.  A violinist for 18 years.  A violist for 15 years.  Classically trained in all of the aforementioned.  I also own a cello and a guitar that (someday) I will get around to learning to play.

I don't kid around when I say that music is my life.  Although so many things in my life have changed over the past decade (especially), music and writing -- and reading -- have remained constant loves of mine.  I almost always have music playing, and if there is no music that is audible, then there's a song playing in my head.

Yesterday, I bought myself an inexpensive MP3 player, since my iPod is dead, and I haven't had any way to listen to music when I'm out of the house for about 2 years (aside from cassette tapes or the radio, since my car's cd player broke).  And now I'm having fun seeing what music ends up on my MP3 player.

So far?... It's a very eclectic mix.  Just like with my book choices, my music selection is all over the map.  Right now I'm copying over a Latin pop cd, but I also have cds as varied as Loreena McKennitt (folk ballads) to Enya (new age) to Renaissance (70s prog rock) to Peter Hollens (amazing acapella Youtuber who just released his debut album last year) to Within Temptation, Tarja, and Sirenia (Scandawegian rock).  My Chemical Romance and Evanescence also have their place in there too...

This, in turn, makes me think about the role that music plays in memory.  All of the albums that I am putting on my MP3 player each come with their own set of memories (unless, of course, the music has been recently purchased).

Loreena McKennitt brings back memories of long, hot summers when I was a teenager, trying to lose myself in the fantasy world that she brings to life in her music.  Enya reminds me of those nights when I woke up, in a panic, and needed to listen to Enya to calm down.  It also reminds me of the months prior to me moving out of my parents' house, doing yoga in my basement bedroom.  Tarja reminds me of the days when I first learned of Nightwish (the band for whom Tarja was the lead singer, until about 2009 or so).  My Chemical Romance reminds me of the days when I needed angry music to help me express my own anger.

This, in turn, makes me interested in working with elderly clients who are have dementia, since there is a program now that various hospice agencies are implementing, wherein music plays a key role.  Here is an interesting article on the uses of music therapy among patients with Alzheimer's, and here is a short film clip on how music helps residents of a retirement village/nursing home in a variety of ways (lowering anxiety and depression, increasing positive feelings).  The channel that the clip is from (MusicandMemory1) has several other clips on how music touches the lives of elderly people; I would encourage you to watch them, if you're interested.

It's so fascinating to me that something as "simple" as a hummed melody can evoke so many memories.  Good ones, bad ones, and memories in between.  Music really is quite powerful, and I hope that we as a society do not forget that. (But that is a discussion for another post... I could probably write a bazillion posts on the importance of music, from various perspectives, for various populations.)

Keep calm and sing on!

Cheers~

Addison.

I'm... done?

I now have my MSW.  It's not quite official yet -- no diploma and no transcript yet -- but I actually made it through the program!  I mean, it wasn't that bad (honestly, I found undergrad to be harder), but it's hard to believe that 3 years have passed since I started the journey into social work... and bada-bada-boom, here I am now, Addison X., MSW.

From mbanews.co.au

I'm one of those people who doesn't really like change that much... transitions have always been hard.  Although this transition from being a part-time grad student to being a Real Adult™ with a Real Job™ isn't going to be as difficult as similar transitions could be, it's still a change. (When I say similar transitions -- for example, to me, a bigger/more difficult transition would be graduating from undergrad if you've lived in the dorms the entire time.  Compared to that, I have a lot of Real Adult Stuff™ under my belt, like paying rent/bills, making meals, managing money, coping with car maintenance, etc., since I got married 6 years ago.)

But yes... the biggest transition will be to working.  Actually having a degree that is worth something is a little mind-boggling.  I mean -- I valued my undergrad degree, but the job market is such now that a Bachelor's in psychology barely gets you anything (unless you are super lucky and/or have previous job experience related to the field).  But a MSW is pretty damn versatile, and I'm really kind of excited to see what the future will hold for me.

I am most likely going to be working two part-time jobs, at least at first, but I'm not entirely sure.  The majority of social workers that I've talked with who have their Master's work anywhere from one to four jobs.  The job I will (hopefully) be starting at, is at the agency where I interned from September last year to the end of April this year.  However, I will need to find another job because there are certain expensive things that my husband and I are going to need to buy at some point.  Like a 4WD car, because with the part-time job I'll (hopefully) be taking, I'll be driving all over and in the winter, well, roads around here are less than pleasant (and also, less than predictable!).

But there's another set of things that I'll need to focus on, now that I'm done with school (and can therefore no longer use grad school as an excuse... haha).  This "set of things" includes working on socializing again -- for the sake of socializing!  It sounds sad, but I realized last night that I actually haven't met people/had to interact socially just for socializing for a very, very long time.  For the past 3 years, the majority of my socializing has been either in classes, or online.  So yeah, I'm going to need to start, you know, meeting people with similar interests.  Not necessarily social work, but music, and books, and gardening, and all of the hobbies I used to have but haven't really spent much time with since... well, since I started grad school!

Photo credit not mine.

Here is my current list of things that I want to do or begin to do now that I'm graduated (and once we get a bit more money that can be spent on "frivolous" stuff):

1) Get involved on NetGalley again, reviewing e-ARCs of books (kinda already started that). ♥

2) Start taking some kind of dance lessons (I've been thinking something like jazz or expressive dance...), or if not dance, then vocal lessons.

3) Teach instrument lessons again (and actually advertise teaching).

4) Write more.  (Which involves doing NaNoWriMo every year if I can.)

5) Figure out how to record better quality audio tracks.

6) Look around on MeetUp and see if there are any groups I'm interested in being a part of, that are NOT related to social work.

I'm sure I will add to that list as time goes on... but it's a start! :)

Cheers!

~Addison X., MSW.