We are blessed with a small but fabulous choice of pubs and eateries near where I live. It’s a tourist haven for six months of the year, attracting people from all around the world.
It also draws people home from all around the world, to reunite with loved ones, have the craic, maybe an oul “dalliance” or two… maybe a bump of coke…
I recently read a non-fiction book about a colleague that was deeply chilling – though not, truth be told, terribly surprising. Of course, not every therapist is abusive, coercive, or amoral like the individual described in that book. And, on paper, this colleague looks perfectly fine. (Plus, oddly, I owe my return to writing to them.)
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I’ve been asked a few times since it aired if I’ve met kids like Jamie. Truth? I have, yes.
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I was, still am a little, in two minds about posting this. But here it is. Over a week old. Because technology and I have a difficult relationship at present.. (as in, I hate it… and I think it hates me…) Maybe it’s best I had time to calm down. I’ve edited out some expletives…but
I am still nauseated by the ConorMcGregor story. Not just by what he almost certainly did, and his whiny rantings after being found liable. But also by the sadly predictable onslaught of misogyny directed at both his victim(s) – and his partner. No doubt in some sad corner of the internet someone’s blaming his mother…
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This is more of an announcement-for-parents-of-teens than my usual blog-style email for everyone on my mailing list. I’m writing to tell you that I’m making a significant change to my practice which might be relevant to you and your teen.
I’m aware that there are many parents among you who are deeply concerned for your teens’ emotional wellbeing. That you’ve been searching for support for them and are possibly on multiple waiting lists – maybe even mine.
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There’s a lot of talk of tradition at Christmas isn’t there?
The food, the shopping, the gifts, the visiting, the dreaded relatives…
But despite tradition, things always change. Usually without our consent. And some of those changes can be so jarring.
A friend recently asked me if I’d write a piece about loss and bereavement for Christmas. And something weird happened to me when he said it. I felt a block. I reflected on it on and off the past few weeks, wondering had my brain actually finally been emptied of words? Or worse, was it broken? Why wasn’t I flinging open my laptop to release the flow of unedited thoughts as I normally do?
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If you’re from Ireland, you may have heard of Knockadoon Summer Camps. They’re an Irish language summer camp, very popular, and just around the corner from me – well, practically, perhaps not quite literally…
Anyway, a friend of mine had her 2 kids there for the 2nd or 3rd consecutive year and I decided to pop over and meet them all, see how they were getting on. Maybe try and get some scandal re potential romances etc – y’know, the usual old-person-embarrassment rituals (they’re so tolerant of me these two!)
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Every June my subconscious does this fabulous fun thing – the annual Leaving Cert dream. If I’m really lucky it’ll be really specific – like Irish paper 1 – or an accountancy paper full of Question 1s – either way it morphs pretty smartly into a nightmare.
Thanks, Brain.
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If you’re a parent I’m sure you’ve had the “grunt experience” – a free entertainment package provided mostly – but not exclusively – by the teen, to the delight of all adults involved with said teen.
The “grunt experience” involves short chats where you are treated to words like fine, alright, sort of, whatever, OMG, sigh, groan and of course -“The Grunt”. #rollseyes
I read a blog post written by a fellow psychologist over the weekend. It spoke to parents about asking the right questions of their kids to get conversations started.
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