Again with the guilt already

I was very tired today, because we had our annual music festival (which I’m in charge of) yesterday at our facility.  We pattern it (sort of) after the big Musikfest in Bethlehem, PA, and we get different bands to come in and perform at various places within our campus.  We end the evening with fireworks.  It’s a lot of fun, but it’s also a lot of work to put it together.  Happily, I work with a lot of very organized people (my boss chief among them), and it almost always seems to manage to come off without too many crises.  I’d have to say that this year’s edition was particularly problem-free.  

To say the least, I was pretty knocked out today, so I was quite mellow while I did my sessions (okay, maybe “practically comatose” would be more accurate).    It was another of those days when I mostly wanted to just sit for the day and not be doing anything responsible (or mobile...  Damn, my feet are tired!).  I had, however, told my clients I’d be there, and I didn’t feel right not going. 

Honestly, I wonder if other music (or regular) therapists struggle with this dilemma of “should I take better care of myself or of my clients?”  I mean, is it just me?  I knew I’d feel better if I got started (and I did), but I was dragging around there for the first hour or so.   

As it turned out, persons number one and two both wanted to come to their sessions, but as soon as we started to look at some of their issues they both began nodding off (behold the power of emotional shutdown when faced with stuff we’re not ready to look at or hear yet).  Person number three was on a trip, and person number four came out the door with me, paused on a bench, and he decided he was heading back home.  Okay then.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again (heck, I’ve said it in this very blog):  if I’m the only person my client gets to say “no” to in a day, then I’ve probably done something important that day. 

Since person number three was out, I checked in with someone who missed his session yesterday because he was on a trip.  He didn’t budge.  Well, he didn’t budge until after I gave up and took another person who was itching to get out of the cottage for a walk.   Then, of course, I had to agonize over whether that was going to be a problem for the person who decided not to come with me (seeing me taking someone else instead, that is).  And I had to worry (yes, I had to worry) that the person who wanted to get out with me was getting the wrong message and I was somehow confusing boundaries.

See, now this is why I should design clothes for short fat women, so we can rule the world (as we were meant to).  I can’t imagine that doing that would require this perpetual level of uncertainty and “am I destroying someone’s life or just being a person here” sort of questions.   *sigh*