Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (My Apologies to Judith Viorst)

Now, my name is not Alexander, but I did have a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day on Monday. It was a day of ups and downs - I was accepted to present on music therapy futurism at the World Congress of Music Therapy, but I also spent about 45 minutes crying in my office after being asked to be part of a team photo and then watching my "team" not wait for me to get there. I rounded the corner as they snapped the picture and then scattered. I was told that they would try to get everyone back so I could be part of the picture, but by that point, I was in hysterics and just didn't need any further humiliation. The rest of the day was what I was expecting - Halloween in a psychiatric treatment facility is on a level beyond other Halloween experiences I have ever had - but I ended up in the throes of a horrible headache and went to sleep pretty soon after I got home. I hadn't slept much from Sunday to Monday, so I know that was part of my hysteria, but the "team" thing really tipped my hormonal response over the edge.

I felt better yesterday afternoon. I feel better this morning, but Monday was horrible. Today, I am facing five groups - leading three, co-leading one - and a dyad session. I don't feel good, but I am heading in anyway since I know what this is and what this isn't. Harvest is almost finished in my area of my state, so the crop dust will soon be gone from the atmosphere. My allergy reaction should quiet down once all the harvesting is over. My hormones are a complete mess, but that's to be expected at my age. The point is that I am feeling better, emotionally.

Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days happen sometimes. 

I think we don't talk about these very often. I feel that we have to because we have to acknowledge that these things are part of being human beings and affect how we do our jobs as humans with humans.  I think we do each other a disservice when we pretend that all things in the life of a music therapist are "happy people making happy sounds" (something my last two principals would say to me when they admitted they knew NOTHING about my job and didn't care to learn - with a very condescending tone, to boot). There are times when your personal emotional state becomes too much to handle and you cannot be an effective music therapist.

Bad days happen. There are days when the "bad" aspect is completely and totally mine. I bring those emotions into the session area and have to figure out ways to combat them or organize them in ways that allow me to continue to focus on the clients who come my way. Other times, the clients bring in the "bad" emotions or choices or attitudes. Either way, the emotional setting of the session becomes something to navigate. 

There are times when we need to cry. There are times when we need to laugh. There are times when we need to scream at the top of our lungs. There are times when we need deep-thinking and other times when we need to engage in low-demand interactions. The point is that we need to be cognizant of the emotional state of our clients, but more, of ourselves as we walk into every single music therapy session.

When I bring my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day into the session, I can share that mood and emotional state with my clients. I might infect them with my bad mood, or I might express that mood in a way that reinforces the concept of being mindful of emotional states. I have decisions about how I am going to acknowledge and work through my own emotions. If I cannot keep my emotional state in check, then I have to protect myself and my clients from me. I have to figure out how to navigate the great responsibilities that my clients have given me while maintaining my personal boundaries within the session. I have to acknowledge that my emotional state has an effect on how I interact with my clients, and I have to take ownership of that effect - apologize when needed and be ever mindful of what I am feeling and how I am acting.

I think my tear-filled emotional state has passed in this moment. If it has, then great. If not, then I will navigate the five groups and dyad session in front of me with as much thought and care as I can. If all else fails, I will do a low demand session with my groups - something to give my clients some therapeutic benefit with the need for less energy output from me. I have several therapeutic music experiences (TMEs) that fit that bill. That is my responsibility to my clients - to navigate my own emotions in such a way that they are supported by me, the therapist that they have available to them.

Once upon a time, I found something called The Smart Therapist Manifesto. The website has since been retired, which I am sad about because the Manifesto was a piece of word art that reminded me about the costs and benefits of choosing this job. Fortunately, I have the picture in my archives somewhere. I look at it often. If you search the italicized words above, you can find the picture as well. One of my favorite parts of the manifesto is towards the bottom of the piece and states, 

"Smart therapists know their limits and don't try to help everyone - even when they want to."