Compassion

I haven't blogged in a while.  Mainly because I have not viewed my blog as a place to gripe and moan.  Trust me, I have written the great American novel in my head while trying to go to sleep, but it has never made it over into written form.  Tonight, I feel like venting.

I was told that I will never make a good therapist.  I am one class away from an Accounting degree and one class away from a Phychology degree.  I am employeed full time in the accounting profession; however, I seem to spent most of my off time helping people.  I have helped one woman get both her daughters back on track, helped a few others here and there.  I don't use phychology per se, I just reason with people with good ol' common sense.  So... I had the woman who I have helped on three levels come to me and tell me that I need to help as 12 year old.  What is the problem???  Her older brothers play a video game that traumatizes her.  I didn't have much to go on, but I googled it.  Turns out it is one of the scariest video games on the market.  She has nightmares, phobias, paranoias, etc. and can't talk to anyone.  After doing the research, my husband has said he is going to talk to the dad about this issue.  Ok, the clock is ticking.

I am trying to find a way to talk to the little girl and get her to open up to me before my husband vents on the dad.  Yeah, I am preoccupied.  So, my husband told me... I will never be a good therapist because I want to manipulate people into talking to me.  That is so not the case.  I probably will not be a good therapist because I care too much about people.  I am worried about this little girl.  I know her brothers and how devious they can be.  If she opens up too much she can open herself up to a world of hurt by them.  My husband says she is not my concern, my concern should be my own two kids.  Yes, that is true, my main concern are my own kids; however, they are not in harms way.  I am trying to find a way to reach this little girl's heart and get her to trust me so I can help her before my husband goes to her dad and wreaks havoc on this whole situation.  Yep, trying to help is my own damn fault... having a husband who is like a bull in a china shop....  snap!!!

No pressure, but I have about a half hour window to talk to her before the hubby goes nutso on the dad.  Doesn't help that my husband hates the brothers.  I have no patience for them either as I know where they are coming from.  I can read them like a book and they know it.  They have stopped even staying hello to me as they know that I am on to them.  This is a totally new issue and I feel so bad for their sister.  I am trying to word an opening dialogue, and my husband says I am overly worried, and will make a bad therapist.  Sorry I am concerned and want to help.   Geez!!