Elegy on the death of a relationsh​ip

I was idly surfing a social networking site the other day, and happened to see the friends I had on my list. The number floored me! There could have been no way I had gathered so many friends in my entire lifetime, so having these people as my friends in the few years of Facebook membership was ridiculous!  It sure set me thinking.

There were friends, and then there were friends of the friends, and then some.  People whom I have hardly said hello to perhaps, people who had no connect whatsoever with me. Yet, they figured in my list of friends, how ironic!

Well, was it?  In the virtual reality, it seemed so... But in reality? Aren't there people in our actual life as well, who are known as friends, even good friends, but how connected are they really to us? 

There are these shadows on the periphery of our lives, hovering there because either we do not know how to gracefully let go and move on, or they do not know how to continue the relationship or sever it.  They are like the extended friends list on the networking site; only difference is that they continue to be like a burr in the side, for there are shared moments of pain and happiness, and letting go is tough. More so, because the ending of such relationships does not have the finality of death... So it is like those arrows shot up into the abyss of a black hole...

One may expect it to fall back on the earth, possibly wounding the entry point again and again. What also makes the moving on so difficult is the fact that we are expected to continue being what goes into being magnanimous, simply because we have to keep a relationship alive.

It reminds me of a person in an  ICU. You know the person is slowly melting away, yet you do all that is possible to keep the person breathing under a ventilator. I would rather the person be under palliative care, and allow an easy transition. Just as I would let a relationship die gracefully, rather than simply prolong the agony by keeping something alive that no longer is.

Thoughts and Growth

The ring tone suggesting receipt of a message on my mobile phone disturbed my afternoon siesta. Since I was not still deep into the world of dreams, I reached out for the phone to check the message, something I usually do not do unless I am awaiting some news. However, a client had called in the morning, very upset and distraught, and I had promised to see her soon. I did not want to miss any of her signals of reaching out, which is why I promptly picked up the phone.

The message that I had received sure jolted me out of my slumber. It was from the mother of an 18-year-old boy who had come to see me sometime last year. The boy had been threatening to drop out of school; he was tense and anxious and was also being prone to violent bursts of anger.

Sessions with the mother and the father both revealed that the boy was under tremendous pressure from the mother, and the father was largely a passive parent. The high achieving mother was just not able to back off, and in a separate session, both the boy and his father requested that the mother be asked to ease off pressure.

The boy tested positive on an assessment for depression, and I had to urge the parents to seek medical intervention, which they did with a lot of reluctance. The mother too needed support for her intense anxiety levels but she would hear none of it, and I could not really force her to do anything she was not willing to.

During the brief period that they were under counselling, I recollect the boy reported feeling better, and also an improvement in his relationship with both his parents. He mentioned a change in his mother's constant high expectations as well.

As it invariably happens, they dropped out of sessions, and I put away the case; till yesterday, when I received a couple of absolutely filthy and abusive messages from the mother, accusing me of being unsupportive, and not being able to empathise with clients. The messages ranted about how the sessions did not help her son even a bit. She advised me to stop practice, saying it would benefit society. She also informed me that her son had managed to clear entrances for various courses, and that my suggestions to back off had been of no use.

In the counsellor mode, I immediately sensed pathology in the mother: not because she was hurling abuses at me, but because I realized that her anxiety had reached sky high and she was letting off steam. I recollected having suggested help for her to handle her anxiety even then, and she had admitted to being high strung most of the time. So, I just acknowledged her feedback, and wished her son good luck.

The messages did not stop there, but compounded in ire and length, and she even called me... Maybe just typing out was not enough, she wanted to scream her guts out! But my understanding of her as a client fell short of allowing myself to subject to foul language and I did not take her call.

I personally believe that being counsellors, we too grow in our personal lives, and each client is a learning experience. Thinking about the whole episode, I realized that I was not getting upset or disturbed about the vilifying and maligning words. I was able to understand where the mother was coming from, and was just not personalising the whole issue. For me, it was a huge step in managing my own emotions!

Also amazed at the way I was handling the situation, and thinking the effects would perhaps hit me later, I went back again a couple of times to read the messages, wondering if my temper would slowly boil up. But there was only this calm all the time.

Have I moved on? Have I learnt to discount behaviour that would otherwise upset me and make me react in a knee jerk fashion? Or it this a one-off incident ? I went back to a couple of other personal situations during the course of the week, and realized that my responses had been subdued, and unlike the 'me' of some months back.

Hope the change lasts!