Infiltrated Balconies and Tragedy Broken Beautiful

These are the things that I have noticed since moving into my new apartment and living alone:

1. My new neighbor has a cat which likes to meander on my balcony.
2. I hate cats.
3. Aforementioned neighbor's cat's litter box's putrid scent lingers and takes over my balcony.
4. I hate cats.
5. I can take a shower with the bathroom door open
6. I don't have to be quiet in the mornings.
7. I can survive off of milk and raisin bread.
8. I'm sleep walking again.
9. I'm apparently eating raisin bread and drinking milk when I sleep walk.
10. I miss my friends.


These are some things that I have noticed since starting at my new job:
....Wait....I should preface this with some background info about my new job.

I work at a residential facility for children with emotional and behavioral problems brought on by severe neglect, abuse, trauma, abandonment, Post traumatic stress, ADD, etc. For the summer I am actually a teacher (?!?) teaching at the on site school. My class is middle schoolers. From what I've been told, by staff that have been working here for a while, I have the second most volatile group of kids on the entire facility. A day without a fistfight or some outbreak of violence towards myself or another client is a "good day". At any given moment you may be punched or cussed out by someone half your age. I was in the commons for lunch yesterday and watched a 5 year old scream several times "FUCK YOU BITCH" and having a tantrum for some reason that I am not aware. The sad thing is that these kids have problems (suicidal ideation, self harm, hyper-aggression, etc) NOT because they are undisciplined punks, but because at some point down the line that's what they were taught by whomever they were being raised by. It really breaks my heart beyond belief to look a child in the eyes and know that those eyes have shed the tears wondering why they weren't good enough to not be abused and abandoned; to think that getting the shit kicked out of them by their own parent/s and put out like yesterday's trash is somehow their own fault and that is how life is supposed to be.

The big problem I have with this job, as anyone would, is detachment. I have to separate myself at work from myself not at work. Obviously I don't take things personally from the kids at work, but the biggest thing that I MUST do is emotionally detach. Don't feel anything because if I feel even a little something it could absolutely destroy me at the end of the day. It is vital that I leave work at work.


With that being said back to my list. Things I have noticed about myself and work since starting the new job:

1. Despite the problems that they have, some of these kids are truly intelligent.
2. You will never forget the day that you get called a "fucking bitch" by a 5 year old, an "asshole" by an 11 year old, or a "cunt" by a 12 year old.
3. I am finding it hard to detach -- not because I can't, but because I'm afraid of what I will become if I do
4. There is no "partial detachment" for me. I either shut off my emotions completely and feel absolutely nothing in any aspect of my life and become what I have worked so hard to overcome, or I don't and risk developing a serious drinking problem to help ease the sadness of these kids that wears on my heart.
5. There is nobody or nothing that can make you laugh faster or harder than a child and his random calling out of the "AFLAC" during silent reading time (and, no, he was reading nothing even remotely close to the subject)
6. One has to really appreciate the TRUE honesty of a child. They keep me in check and let me know instantly if my joke is not funny....Today: Client: "Shannon. Seriously. Are you trying to make jokes again?" Me: "I thought it was very funny!" Client: "That's probably why you were the ONLY one laughing. It wasn't funny."


So that's all I have to say for now. I will post more as time moves on. So to the 4 of you who read this (Denise informed me that there's more than 3 so I'll push it up 1, LOL!) I miss you guys and I'm still surviving.

Until another quiet moment presents...



s.