leonard cohen. kawhi leonard. leonard maltin. leonard fournette. leonard(o), the blue teenage mutant ninja turtle. darius leonard, that defensive player from the Colts. All of these names may have some meaning, and their meaning is irrelevant. Because the name Leonard is irrelevant which is why I didn’t even give it the grace to capitalize it. Except that I just did that in the last sentence. I also don’t really remember who Leonard Maltin is, I think he’s a film critic or so. And one of those players won a NBA championship, one was a football bust, one was a poet and song writer and he had some jams. I still will argue that they are pointless figures in the grand scheme of life. Michelangelo was the best turtle anyway. Or Donatello. Leonardo was probably actually better than Raphael who was just a mopey emo boy and I don’t need TV to see that shown, I can just look in a mirror.
Sometimes I’m taking showers and thinking about what I’ll write about and how to formulate it, how to create it. When I say sometimes, I mean rarely (if ever) due to me posting at most once every six months. I mention this because when I was showering this morning, I was thinking of the name Leonard and other names that began with it. I never got much further than that initial thought which is why I immediately started spiraling into incoherent prose after listing off those names. I was impressed by what I was thinking with the names and I thought it’d be a great jumping off point into my next point. Instead it just made me realize that I had no real connective tissue to bring those fellows together and I liked them well enough to not want to be entirely too critical of them as a whole. I understand this backtracking isn’t going to retroactively make those sentences more entertaining, it’s just a way of showing that I am aware of the missteps I make.
One of my colleagues described the detox counselors as “front-line soldiers in the war versus addiction.” We are the ones that rush into battle, do our best to fire a few shots off, before being decimated by machine gun fire. She didn’t include all of that in the description, which is why I only quoted what she actually said. Either way, those in detox are seeing those with substance use disorders at their most vulnerable. Typically in the throes of withdrawals, while cravings are at their highest, and physical comfort is at its lowest. Suffice to say, a lot of clients do not make it through the process because their disease prohibits them from doing so. I understand this, I am deeply aware of this; however, that does not take away from the frustration of it all. Which brings me to Leonard, an alcoholic, whom I was working with. Leonard isn’t his real name for privacy reasons; just kidding, it totally is Leonard and I wouldn’t be obsessing over this damn name if it was just a pseudonym.
Oh right, I could’ve continued on that same paragraph because I still need to speak about Leonard but I took a break to aimlessly stare into the void that is my office on Thanksgiving and I got distracted. Also, as I wrote more and more of this, I realized, what is there even to vent? Leonard was a client who wanted to drink, and didn’t want to stick around for rehab. Who explicitly told me he was going to walk out of here, and have a beer. Where is he now? He’s starting his first day of rehab. Why is he starting his first day of rehab? Because I reached out to his case manager, his psychiatrist, and I didn’t give up on him when he changed his mind. He kept flip flopping between staying and going, and I could’ve just quit on him and let him live his life, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that because I know I can’t change someone’s mind entirely. I know that people are in complete control of their actions and I can only do so much. I also know that people are in vulnerable states, and need advice to help their lives. They came in for treatment, and they didn’t come in to talk to a therapist that would immediately agree with their discouraging thoughts and wish them well as they go out the door. Was Leonard driving me crazy with his flip flopping? Yes. Was it ridiculous one of his main issues with rehab was that he would have to do group work? Yes. Did I yell at him in exasperation that probably just sounding like me being funny but I was ready to strangle him? Sure. In the end, he stuck around for another day, and I know that I’m partially responsible for that.
In other news, I broke my new couch last night and I watched another Cronenberg movie last night and I have no idea how it was even nominated for an Academy award. The fascination with his filmography is becoming more confounding with each film I see, and yet I will continue with my quest to watch them all. Oh, and also it’s Thanksgiving today and I’m writing this from work because might as well maximize efficiency. I thought it would be funny to just write “In other news, I broke my new couch and watched a movie,” and then end the blog. Like, it would be a cliffhanger ending. Instead I’m still going on and on. Now I feel I almost have to explain the couch thing, but in case any online shops are reading this blog, I will not explain anything more and reiterate that it was delivered broken and had nothing to do with me taking out frustrations from the Leonard incidents of earlier in the day. Over the weekend, I’ll probably write a full post explaining my couch dilemma and giving a half baked review of another Cronenberg film that I rent from Amazon for 3$. So it goes.