Helping clinicians beat burnout & bulletproof their bag—1 journal entry at a time.
Journal Entry 4 on April 11, 2025 I walked down the street and around the corner to my vehicle after conducting my weekly home visit with a mom and her pre-teen daughter. I reflected on a part of the session that triggered me. I worked hard not to have countertransference during the session. See, countertransference in therapy sessions occurs when the therapist has an emotional reaction or projection toward the client. In my case specifically, I over-identified with mom 🆔. She shared about a recent friendship breakup with her girlfriend of 8.5 years. Mom explained that her friend started tripping after mom got married. Then, mom’s girlfriend started coming back around when mom told her that she was contemplating leaving her husband after 4 years of marriage. The reason why mom and I engaged in this conversation was because the marital relationship caused a disruption in the family dynamics with her daughter who needed behavior health services, positive supports and effective interventions to modify her disrespect and defiance. But it was something about mom sharing the pain experienced from losing her best girlfriend that hit a cord with me. During the session, I tried to implement every skill in the book
But emotionally, I was done. In the middle of my session, I experienced a psychological and emotional trigger because I just ended an 18-year friendship with a woman who I referred to as my best friend. I met my friend in September 2006 in Santa Barbara. We both attended the new student orientation for those entering into the doctor of education, leadership and change program. Chile, over those 18 years went through thick and thin. Traumas, marriages, deaths, ministries, businesses, accidents, sicknesses, ups, downs, wins, losses… you name it. I loved her. Because of my love and respect for her, I promised myself that when I share my experience about what happened the last 9 months of our friendship I refuse to create the villain-victim narrative. I told myself that I would simply state the facts of what I experienced and how it impacted me. Moreover, I decided to view the situation as God’s timing and that the season of our friendship was over. Like a child, I wish the friendship ended in another way, especially with her not being able to have anything negative to say about me—- However, that is not the case. She and her husband allowed me to move in with them when I left my entire life after living through a painful experience. I called her one day and in 24-hours I rang her door bell. I traveled 16 hours straight, including bathroom and gas breaks, from Philly to Columbus, GA. There was absolutely no other place I would ever go if I needed to live with someone except her. I thought I was safe. I thought I could be myself. I thought it was understood that I left my whole life and everything around me was unfamiliar. I assumed she knew that it would take me some time to be myself. I thought I would experience more compassion and understanding. I was wrong. I was no angel. I could not control my emotional reactions. I cried. I slept. I did not leave the house for days at a time. I did not open the blinds. I had emotional outbursts. I shut down. I stopped talking. I left the house and didn’t return until late at night. I was triggered and in survival mode. I thought depression was normal for an instance like that. However, I have no excuses for my actions, responses, and behaviors. I sought her and God’s forgiveness. She has much mud to smear on my name. And guess what? I can’t do anything about it. While keeping it moving, all I can do is +Talk to God +Shake my head +Hunch my shoulders +Accept that is the way the ball bounces sometimes Most of all, I REFUSE TO PLAY THE VICTIM AND DRAG HER NAME THROUGH THE MUD Intrusive ThoughtsAs I am sitting there listening to my mom talk, fighting back tears and over-identifying 🆔, the floodgates of my thoughts opened. Everything I wanted to say to my friend, who I no longer feel safe talking to ever again, came to the surface— Brace yourself… Chile, if you only knew what I went through.
I know how you feel.
I can’t believe that she, my so-called friend, treated me that way.
What did she except from me?
I left my whole life: home, husband, business, jobs, friends, support system, etc.
I went to her home because I thought she was safe.
I guess a 14-hour car ride distance is different when you listen to someone cry and share spill all their personal business over the phone in a 2-hour conversation versus living with them.
I am the same person on the phone and who you visited al these years.
Why did you think I would do anything differently now that I am living with you.
I thought we respected each other’s boundaries.
Why are you coming in the room every morning?
I don’t want the blinds open.
I would never have done you like that.
Why do I have to talk to your husband? We don’t talk to each other’s husbands. I would never make you feel like you have to have a relationship with my husband. You and I are friends before either one of them came along.
I would never have disrespected your boundaries.
Since when do we treat each other like that.
When you experienced something traumatic, I listen to you.
I don’t shut you down. I don’t give you a bunch of scripture. I let you be where you are in the moment. Why didn’t you do the same for me?
Oh, I was just charity for you. There is no way in the world that you just started feeling this way about me. I just didn’t see it.
When did you start r looking at me like your daughter. I thought we were friends. We connected because of our similar traumatic experiences.
I thought we supported each other.
Since when did you just support me because I was that needy and you needed to help me because I was sooo helpless?
When was I going to find all of this out?
How do you really feel about me?
Were we ever really friends?
Dang, I was dumb as heck if I thought we were really friends.
If I say no the answer is no. Why would you keep asking me like it is going to change?
You really do not respect me at all. Why would you get mad because I said no or I voiced my opinion?
What is going on here? Are you a witch or something? This is manipulation and control. Since when do we even think we can manipulate or control each other’s thoughts, actions, movements, feelings, perceptions, moves?
I could not ignore my intrusive thoughts. Nor could I let mom see me cry in the middle of her session. I forced myself to come back to the present. I slowly got my phone, looked at it and asked my mom a question that shifted the conversation to focus back on her daughter’s behaviors. I couldn’t take it anymore…I said to myself Where’s my journal? I need to write this out… 2 Journal Prompts
How This Journal Entry Helped Me Beat BurnoutMy thoughts were so intrusive during that session. But if truth be told, I think about the events that led up to the friendship break up all the time. Journaling about it is helping me to admit just how much it still bothers me. Honestly, I do not miss her friendship. Not because I was not her real friend, but because of what I experienced during one of the lowest points in life while living with her. Journaling also helped me beat burnout as I am recognizing my emotional state. I have been carrying this experience around with me. I am finally releasing more of it. The last time I communicated with her was via text in January 2025. So, I have been holding this in for 4 months. Like I always share, I live in the both/and realm. I experience multiple things at once about each situation I find myself in. Here are the life-giving and life-draining emotions that I am experiencing Life-Giving Emotions
Life-Draining Emotions
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Helping clinicians beat burnout & bulletproof their bag—1 journal entry at a time.