Ramblings of a Psychologist

I keep promising myself that I will write again. I always wanted to be a writer. At times, I fantasize about living the life of a struggling literary artist. Who doesn't? Sure, you're always wondering how you'll come up with the following month's rent and how to construct a "thanks for taking the time to read my submission" letter that doesn't scream "screw you for saying 'no' to my piece." Even still, a life devoted to putting 'angsty meanderings' into words and crafting something that pretends to say so much when really says nothing at all is oh so appealing...only at times of course.

I was struggling there for a couple of months; having a hard time with the idea of having spent the last 4 years of my life undergoing training in order to make the commitment to helping other people have better lives. You see, it's always been my dream to change the world. I wanted/want to do something great. And while I struggle with wanting to do it just so I know I can be something great, I also know deep in my heart I really just want to do something great for God. As much as I don't like to admit it, His heart for the people of this world breaks my heart. I guess I just didn't think I'd be committing to this with the knowledge my own life isn't exactly "better" in the way I want it to be.

Working with veterans these last couple if years, I've come to understand that "Better" is a relative term. I've also come to understand there's no "good guy" or "bad guy." There's really only the individual human nature and the collective human nature. To be honest, I understand all this just enough to understand that I don't really understand much of anything at all. As psychologists, we like to think we understand. We want to understand our patients, our instructors, ourselves-we're mandated to go to therapy in order to quicken the process of understanding ourselves. In my opinion, understanding is overrated.

I don't understand why we're always at war. I don't understand why people voluntarily sign up to go to war. I don't understand why society expects people to function "normally" after they've gone to war. And really...I don't understand why there's the expectation that life is somehow going to be fair because honestly it's not. Life isn't really fair for anybody, that much I do understand.

It's easy to just read lab reports, analyze psychological assessments, and/or just recommend a pill that will make the pain go away. Despite all the progress of modern medicine many diseases and illnesses persist and ache many a weary soul. In moments like these I realize my clinical training based on science has many shortcomings. Patients come in hopes of finding understanding even though they know the majority of us haven't a clue what it's like to have spent what felt like an eternity in the deep and dark depths of their lives. In most instances I have to confess audibly, "You're right...I don't understand, I just don't know." And then I wait for an unexplainable compassion that allows me to follow with, "but I'm here and I'm listening...and I want to understand."