MSNBC research on resiliency

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21580558/

Resiliency Article in Psychology Today

http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200305/the-art-resilience

Tread Lightly

     I'm not a fan of sarcasm and have been known to (once or twice) ignore moments of sarcastic jest out of principle. The hell you say. It is no secret, but I feel life as it is provides more than enough humor and opportunities for humility; that stated, why muck up perfection (The good Lord provides enough experiences by design)? Often I am told that I am the one being sarcastic, sadly this is not the case. I find life to ambiguous enough or more specific, the incidences that make up the human experience- through my own experiences I have learned that honesty (coupled with a bit of tact) is best as I would hate to dirty up the air anymore than it is. Be that as it may, people still see sarcasm in my honesty and straightforwardness regardless of the actual intention; It is not for lack of trying though. Why? Well, the speculations are there (and by this, I mean my own opinion) thats for certain; perhaps in an attempt to depersonalize the situation the individual finds it easier to accuse sarcasm than accept the cold hard truth. Oh well. I am sure sarcasm has its place, while well intended people often confuse the need for light heartedness with an ounce of sarcasm in tough situations therefore blurting out the one thing they know well- sarcastic remarks. I am a strong believer in the concept there is a time and a place for everything,  regarding sarcasm though the time, place, and all individuals  involved must be ready, willing, and receptive or sarcasm can be a just be a darn insult. Insults as we all know can lead to a barrage of hurtful insults coming your way when all you meant to do was defuse a situation. Funny thing though about the human capacity to remember what is being communicated, while we remember only 10% what is said we always remember that low-down dirty sarcastic remark we heard you say 11.8 years ago. Tread lightly.

© L. McQuilkin 2010

McQuilkin, L. (2010). Tread Lightly. Tavares, FL

February 2010: I am Free

     

     I have been working in the school system as a substitute while I wait for my big break in the education world (I won't hold my breath). To avoid depression I liken my job to that of an undercover agent who has the very important mission of identifying the weary and showing them their potential; a resiliency agent. It has been really fun however, it is a treacherous and dangerous job. When I assign creative writing assignments I must prepare myself emotionally for what I am about to read; from poems to short stories the pain comes alive in fictional characters they create.One child, I will call him Derrick is a high school student and he wrote me a 2 page poem about his life up until now. Derrick is adopted, but the transition was far from easy for him. He titles the poem, "So you think you know me?" Before I begin to read I look up at his face, he is 15 and has this darling innocence about him, it is hard to believe he has a behavioral issue because today he is pleading with me to read it and not share it with anyone else. I thought to myself, "Wow... this is odd... but okay", I fully expected to read some joke poem full of swear words but what I read changed my life forever. Derrick is a survivor of severe abuse and sexual assault. He is plagued with flashbacks and wishes people understood why he stares off sometimes or why he gets mad and stomps out of the classroom. With tears I am just breathless as I continue to read. It has been a couple of years since he has been in the situation but still, something about this poem has led me to believe he needs to talk. I was right, after class he came in and stayed all through his lunch and then some. He asked me with a quivering voice and wet eyes, "what do you think of .... me... my poem I mean?". I had to restrain myself from reaching out and hugging him because I am still a teacher and it just is not appropriate at the moment. I leaned forward, touched his shoulder and looked straight in his eyes... before I spoke tears were coming down his cheeks... "Derrick, I think you are the bravest person I have EVER met, the poem... it was a beautiful portrayal of your pain and your valiant journey to survivorship... you are amazingly strong and you will continue to rise above this..." I handed Derrick tissues and gave him a bottled water to help him calm down because I saw a familiar look in his face and I knew if I did not get him to ground himself in reality he would have one of his flashbacks. I am not a therapist, I am just an ordinary woman who knows how it feels to fight the good fight. Derrick sobbed and said, "you are the first person I ever told... other than the police and stuff... not even my counselor... I just knew I could talk to you, I feel like I am not alone anymore..." and I said, "Derrick, you will never be alone anymore... you now know what it is like to be free and safe..."... just as the bell rang Derrick looks back with a smile, " You know Miss... I never thought of it like that before... I am free..."

L. McQuilkin 2010

Courage Comes In Many Forms

Courage Comes In Many Forms

January 4, 2010

Anonymous

It is now 2010 and I am deciding to sharpen my courage tool. My first voyage out into this territory was wrought with fear (a completely normal response I assume) however my desire to see what was to be discovered was far more powerful than my own fears. I am an avid martial artist and have had a deep fear of sparring men. I have a fear rooted with a traumatic experience that even planned sparring matches managed to trigger a post traumatic response-- flashbacks. My opponents have no idea why I have this fear but most capitalize on this. This time I told myself, "okay... deep breaths... stay in the moment... fight back"-

It worked somewhat, at least during the sparring match. This is a breakthrough for me, I learned to control the trigger response in order to survive the match. I let my hypervigilence turn into a tool and my anger into drive. I fought a 5'11'' man who by all rights kicked my ass... literally. This time I gave him a dose of what I call "no control", I handed back to him the same pain he dished out times ten. Afterwards, both of us beaten and sore I breathlessly stated, "how does it feel to have someone enjoy your pain? to know that this scared woman is much stronger than you thought...?". Super sore, I limped away.

Right now I sit at my computer nursing some good size bruises the big difference this time is I am not nursing my dignity, emotions, or sanity. Courage comes in all forms but it is not courage if there is not any exercising of self control, indomitable spirit, and desire.

Courage comes in many forms, today it came in the form of a sexual assault survivor overcoming fear.

Until next time...

Anonymous