Being Human

Lisa Catling is a service coordinator here at Changing Futures, this is a cathartic piece which showcases Lisa’s view on working as a service coordinator yet still “being human”.

It’s Tuesday, which is a day after Monday and the day before Wednesday. It’s a day with two meetings. The first is with one of my favourite groups of people, thinking about the implementation of the ‘my team around me’ approach. To share thoughts and check-in; it’s a meeting that eases me into the rest of the week like a comfort blanket. The second is with our new psychologist and the other half of the women’s cohort coordination, to think about the women we support and reflect on what’s happening for us. But today I’m not at either of these meetings.

Fridge, mirror, kettle, toaster, mug, five things in the room I can see. That was yesterday. Trees, grass, people jogging, cyclists, children; today I made it outside. I walked until my legs hurt and head started to spin. I walked fast and kept going, Air Max thumping the pavement. Not the most well thought out plan when it came to the walk back but it's got to be better than reaching for a bottle or making 'that' call, right? Looking after yourself is sometimes the hardest thing to do, especially when it's the last thing you feel like doing. I guess I'm still learning that you can't walk alongside the clients we support unless you're prepared to be there for yourself. Something that's always stuck with me is a phrase that came up in my IDVA training, that when the plane is going down, whose oxygen mask do you put on first, before you attempt to help others? Yours! 

I may be a professional (I may not feel like it sometimes) but I still get nervous, I still overthink things, I still want to make a good first impression. I'm still nervous of phones. What if I don't make any sense and say the wrong thing. 
Deep breath, dial the number. Two rings, she's not going to answer.
Is it hot in here? I stand in front of the fan.
Four rings and, 'hello'? She answered! We arranged to meet in person the following day. Success! I swung around smiling, knocking a flowerpot off the crowded window ledge, filling my Dr Martens with soil before it fell to the floor. As I looked at my boots in disbelief I tried to suppress a giggle, having caught the eye of my colleague across the room. We all shared a moment of laughter as I described what had happened and it served as a great topic for conversation when we met for the first time. I'm nothing if not human, and a bit clumsy, still trying to get to grips with this oxygen mask.