So yes, if you have not heard about it, I have resigned, gone for more than enough interviews to pick a job I really like and eventually started work on 1 Sept. It's been one week since I rejoined the ranks of being a social worker and I must say I am enjoying every single bit of it! It is just about the closest I have gotten to becoming a social worker. No more an operations supervisor, no more a houseparent and no more taking of temperature and most importantly, no more working under a stupid boss!! I now have proper supervision, physical and emotional boundaries from my clients, professional casefiles and templates, pilot G1 pens to use, staff pass (no keys!) and counseling rooms with nice cosy sofa and orange lighting! Life rocks to the core man!
My senior social worker allocated a BPC case on my first day of work. It came as a surprise really, I was expecting to nua my time away making new friends and surveying the neighbourhood for good eats. Turns out, they do actually have a SOP file for the social work department! I know its a no brainer but my previous workplace did not really have that you see. To date, I have 3 cases under my belt and more to come I reckon. Along the way I have already conducted sessions with them and had my supervision and training. I currently feel I am under good hands, and deservingly so.
Today, while researching for one of my sessions, I chanced upon an art therapy material and it says something about art being a symbolic communication avenue, an expression of people's feelings and emotions and in no way it should be judged. It made me recall one incident in kindergarten when I coloured a housefly pink, thinking it was creative and nice and pretty and cute. In retrospect, maybe I was too impatient to wait for my classmate to finish using the brown/black crayons. To make up for it, I took great pains to colour it and made sure it was coloured within the lines. When I handed in the masterpiece, my teacher scolded me for it!! He said "Have you ever seen a PINK HOUSEFLY?!?!" He made me feel so embarrassed in front of the whole class that I ran into the toilet to cry.
And maybe that one off 'traumatic' incident sparked the onset of my defence mechanism whenever people judge or criticise me. It probably also triggered me to do things swee swee and not be subjected to criticisms as far as possible, which is a good thing to come out of it=)
