Play Therapy #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

I had my first play therapy session on Wednesday. That is, I used to have play therapy when I was in elementary school. That was nearly 30 years ago though. Yikes, how time flies!

Anyway, I only had four sessions back then before the school holiday and apparently those were either enough or my parents didn’t consent to more play therapy. Not that they were paying, but oh well. My parents were very reluctant to agree to these first sessions anyway, because they were suspicious of anyone in the helping profession, including the play therapist. I wonder why, since the goal of therapy was that I not get angry as quickly anymore. I back then denied getting angry much at all. However, I did play with toy weapons all the time, threw out the purple-haired dollhouse figurines because people don’t have purple hair and tried to overflow the water tray. That might have been telling. Or not, since I don’t know whose initiative the toy weapons were.

I hated play therapy though, because I had to go to it during my favorite subject in school, biology. I wonder honestly what the point was.

Same now. I was initially told, back in February when I had the intake interview for therapy with two different therapists, that the type of therapy I’d get was called something like “differentiation therapy”. I filled in what I thought this meant and behaved in a way that I thought was consistent with this. I thought that the goal is to learn to identify different feelings, so this Wednesday I constantly named the attributes of the objects I played with. The therapist did note that I was adamant about which types of play-doh I liked or didn’t like, but she didn’t write anything about me constantly saying, for example, that the PlayMobil® figurine was giving its companion its left rather than right hand, etc.

I’m pretty sure I was trying to show off with this behavior. I’m now scared she’s going to think I’m far more capable of identifying feelings than I am. Or think I am. Or whatever. I hope we’ll get something out of play therapy this time around, unlike back in 1996 when I was ten.

This post was written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS), for which the prompt is “school”. I interpreted it loosely, because I really wanted to write about play therapy. I’m going to write an actual post on my first session later.

The Wednesday HodgePodge (June 28, 2023)

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I haven’t touched the blog in a few days once again. It’s for partly different reasons than last week this time though. The different reasons include the hustle and bustle of my birthday. It’s over though so today I’m back joining the Wednesday HodgePodge. Here goes.

1. What’s one thing you’re excited about in the coming month?
The last bit of my birthday celebrations when my mother-in-law visits me next week. We couldn’t visit my in-laws on Sunday. That is, technically we could, but since my mother-in-law was on call for the animal rescue service she volunteers for, it would have been quite boring for me.

2. What was your life like when you were ten years old?
It was a very difficult year. I turned ten on June 27, 1996. The day before my tenth birthday, I had my first out of what turned out to be only four sessions with a play therapist/educational psychologist. Given what I remember of those sessions, I wonder whether the therapist saw signs of autism back then. Either way, I’m pretty sure my parents decided after those four sessions that it was useless to continue. Fast forward to the end of my year of being ten, June of 1997, I had a psychological evaluation supervised by the same ed psych. This, and the recommendations that came out of it, led to my parents finally falling out with the school. Oh, how I wish I hadn’t been loyal to my parents back then…

3. What’s something from your childhood you still enjoy today?
Being creative, although not in the same ways. That is, I did love playing with play-doh (which one might say is somewhat related to polymer clay, even though real polymer clay artists will punch me in the stomach for saying it) as a young child. I loved drawing more though, something I obviously am no longer capable of. One thing I want to say though is that, even though I’m now totally blind, I still appreciate colors.

4. What state (that you haven’t been to) do you most want to visit? Tell us why.
I haven’t been to any U.S. states and honestly have no interest in visiting them anymore either. As for a country I’d like to visit that I haven’t been to: Sweden.

5. Do you like to drive? Tell us how you learned to drive.
Uhm, N/A. I don’t drive, as I’m blind. That being said, I doubt I could’ve learned had I not been blind, because my processing is about as screwed as can be.

6. Insert your own random thought here.
Today, I created a polymer clay flower pendant in just half an hour. I loved the entire process and it turned out quite good. In fact, the only thing I dislike about it is the fact that the eyepin’s direction is off.

I really need to be showing more of my creations on here, I think, as social media hardly work for me. I mean, I do try to use Instagram, although I wish it were more of a microblogging service with the pictures being optional. Then again, that’s what Twitter is supposed to be, but then again I despise Elon Musk. Oh well, the perfect social media platform doesn’t exist.

Angry

Posted on by Astrid

Hiya everyone,
My name is Kelly. I am 10-years-old. I am so angry now. I wanna call my mother and shout at her and all that, but the grown-up people say I can’t. I am angry because my parents say I’m angry too easily when in fact it’s them who do stuff like tough love.

I mean my mother says “So you wanna go residential at Bartiméus?”. That’s the school for the blind we go to. So if I’m not being good she’s gonna send me away. She also throws out my toys cause she says I’m defiant because I have too many toys.

Oh and Mrs. B our low vision teacher doesn’t want me to do low vision anymore. Well I don’t care what people think.

I was typing up this memory thingy but then my Internet crashed and I lost the piece I’d written. I will try to share again.

One day a social worker comes by my house to talk to my parents. I dunno who wants it my parents or the social worker. My mother says the social worker had said I’m angry too easily and I need play therapy. I go there during biology class, which is the only interesting class in school. so it sucks. I gotta play with this grown-up man I don’t even know. I wanna flood the water tray and throw out the purple dolls in the dollhouse because ya know, dolls can’t be purple. I don’t know why but my parents take me out of this therpay after four sessions. So why the fuck did they put me into it? I mean I’m not supposed to magically snap out of my anger by four sessions of stupid play therapy am I?

I’m confused now. Yes I’m angry. My parents say I wanna make them miserable. I have stopped caring. They’re gonna put me in residential if I don’t stop playing with my toys anyway and yet I’m suppose to play with this grown-up during biology class. I’m so angry. I don’t know why, cannot write it in English or maybe not even in Dutch either. I’m just pissed off.