I got this. I hope.

There are times when I can feel the full weight of my responsibilities. I cannot remember a time when I was not responsible for something, or, at least, thought I was. It is hard to remember what it was like to have the singular responsibility to clean my bedroom, or serve coffee, or pay $250 for rent. Even the more complex responsibilities of working full time as a newlywed feel simple.


Haven sits with his book basket next to the fire place. He digs through the hard-paged stories, opens one, babbles for a moment, then turns to the next. He looks at them upside down, right side up; he studies them. I am aware that he is my greatest responsibility ever, in both the large and wonderful senses of the word.

A new responsibility I have is as the leader of two groups at the counseling center. I have led groups before, but those were about social skills, personal boundaries, grooming and hygiene - concepts I like to think I understand thoroughly. These groups, however, are on chemical abuse, addiction and recovery. Not something in which I planned to specialize.

It was more comfortable to silently write the progress notes for the group than it is to facilitate. But nobody promised comfort when I decided to become a therapist. (Don't think that I got a promotion. I'm still an unpaid intern who is simply covering for a maternity leave.) I cannot rattle off knowledge about the short and long term effects of various drugs, I cannot spout off various detox drugs and their own potential for addiction, I cannot even give a detailed description of local rehab centers. Okay, take a deep breath... I can, however, give a damn about the people in front of me and their recovery, I can expect change and rewrite treatment plans to accomadate the individual's needs, I can confront, I can encourage, I can keep myself from believing it is my job to fix them, I can create an environment that fosters change. And, well, I can look up that other stuff in a book and letcha know next week. I encourage myself that studies show novice therapists are often as effective as seasoned therapists, especially in behavioral-based therapies. I imagine this is because we are not burned out and we are eager to succeed.

I find that as my responsibilties grow in complexity, they also grow in fulfillment. If they do not, they probably are not worth my time. Of course, when I am scrubbing behind the toilet, I have to remember that it is only a part of the sublime job of being home with Haven full time. Sometimes it's in that big picture I find the rewards. They are there.

So, I will embrace this terrifying responsibility of a group therapist. This is why I started this whole school-thing, isn't it? My plan was to be a missionary, to offer hope. I realized a college education would be an asset. So, I hit the books. That was seven years of education ago. At least 50 college-level classes. You'd think I would feel slightly more confident.