The hardest lesson is to unlearn what you have learned

I've been thinking entirely too much about Samaritans. Even my brain is revolting. I can recall a dream I had two nights ago in which I was speaking to some random family members/friends: I said "In Samaritans..." and they all cut in "Samaritans, Samaritans, blah blah blah". It was funny because I mention Samaritans to the folks only if being pressured. Mom seems to have warmed a bit more to me possibly volunteering for the organization (I think hyping up the selectivity of the whole process was the trick), and Dad, as usual, pays passing interest and then promptly forgets about it all.

While I've been freaking out about my impending rejection from the group (I can feel it in the air, I tell you), I realized today that even in such a short span of time I've learned so much from the experience. Oh, hells yeah, I'll be bitter as fuck if Alan opens the door and kicks my ass to the curb tomorrow evening, but I'll know it hasn't all been useless. So few people know how to truly listen. My friends, even when not meaning to, start with the well-meaning comments in response to my "negativity". Or talk about what I might have done in the past. How hard is it just to sit back and let me talk about how I'm feeling now? I find myself biting my tongue, stopping myself from saying "Shut up and listen, damn you" a lot. Because they just don't know. Hells, I *know*, and I still find myself falling into the habit of asking closed-ended questions or asking about meaningless facts when I feel like the other person might want to just talk.

I remember the first day of class when we went over active versus "normal" listening, and suddenly thinking "Hey, that's why we all avoid my father; he's a horrible listener". And it's true. He may be one of the worst listeners I've ever come across. He's convinced that if he can do something (or has done something in the past) that everyone else should be able to do that same thing too. He frequently interrupts you with curt "no"'s if you speak to him about something that he doesn't agree with. And that's it. End of story. He talks and talks and talks, and if you have something to say he ignores your input, and just waits for his opportunity to start talking again. It's hard to listen to someone if you feel you're better than them, which seems to be his mindset. My manager, while otherwise a nice individual just doesn't listen. This morning, somewhat stressed about a number of things, I started talking about how I was dealing with training and running back and forth. She then interrupted me and started telling me about her trip to South Carolina and random other tidbits. I, per usual, sat back and listened to her, because it was apparent that's what she needed. But...I don't know. Why does it always seem like no one wants to hear what I have to say?

And I don't want to make it seem like I'm all of a sudden the world's best listener, because I'm not. And if there's anything that makes me remember that it's getting smacked down week in and week out at training. Maybe that's why I'm so worried about the outcome of this whole thing in the first place. I spent a good portion of my life feeling like I was really attuned to other people; it was their problem and their loss that they never really understood me. That was how I coped with having few friends and feeling lonely on the few occasions I let that get the best of me. Sure, my conversational skills were shot to hell, but you didn't have to know how to converse in order to know how to listen to people (I told myself); you like to listen to people, people like to talk to you, why not enter the field of psychology? But now I'm being told that I *don't* know how to listen to people. And so I find myself questioning my ability to really be useful as a psychologist. I wonder if my career aspirations were just a way to make me feel better about my hideous lack of socialization and interrelational skills. To try to "fix" (I've become trained to detest that word) others because I found myself nigh impossible to fix. I don't know how I've managed to wrap my fragile ego so tightly in my making (or breaking) within Samaritans.

I got a good amount of studying done this morning. I headed up to Starbucks early in the morning and hunkered down with my folder and notes. It was refreshing, a welcome reminder/flashback to my Providence days. I know more than I thought I knew about what we've gone over so far. I'm just hoping it's enough for tomorrow.