"2 and 1/2 movies till we get to St. Louis, Presley"

It's November and as most of you have probably noticed that on Facebook there's the "30 days of thankfulness" thing going on. I find that the majority of the people are still complaining about their children having the stomach virus, or their husband's being gone on business, or having to clean the house because the children have made a huge mess. I know that some people don't think before they put stuff on facebook but I just want to share what I'm thankful for and maybe it will help other's think before they "post."

It's been just Mom and I as long as I can remember. Even when she was dating someone or when she was married to my (ex) step-dad... it always felt like it was her and I against the world. I particularly think it's because she's my soulmate, and even though I've always been her little girl to protect... I always felt like I had to shield her against the bad guys, the evil of the world, and be her rock. When I became sick with CNSV, she had to stand up for me more than she would if I were healthy. In her late 20's, she had to not only be a single mother with several jobs, but she also had to take me to get chemo therapy once a month, take care of me after the the treatments and take me see doctors several times a year. I don't remember much about those days; however, I remember going to Country Mart and renting Mary-Kate and Ashley, Winnie the Pooh, Matilda, The Parent Trap, and Peppy Long Stockings videos for our 4 hour trip to St. Louis. My nanny and mom were always going to Walmart and finding me $5 videos to watch. I knew exactly how many videos to pack away for our trip. 5. At seven years old, I didn't use time. I used things that I could measure time by and I had this down to an art. Even though I spent five years doing chemotherapy, all I remember is what I see in pictures and the movies I watched in the backseat of the suburban on our way to and from St. Louis. Maybe I don't remember on purpose. Maybe that's a good thing.

My mom has always been constant. She has always been there. I asked her recently how she knew what she was doing. She said "I called nanny a lot. I asked her for advice and when she told me that she didn't know the answers because she never had to take care of a sick child... well, then I would cry and pray and do whatever I had to do to have you another day."

I really cannot imagine being a single parent in my 20's, let alone being a single parent with a child who has a terminal illness.  In ways, my disease has been a blessing. It makes the small acheivements (for most people) seem so much bigger because well... it really is. It makes each day something to remember. It makes my relationships stronger. But most of all, it makes me appreciate my momma more. It allowed me to see a side of my mom that I wouldn't have seen otherwise. My mother has been the greatest gift God has ever given me. I've never been good at protecting my mom, but she has always given everything to make sure that I was going to be okay.

One of the things that my mom always reminds me of is there's always someone who has it worse than I do. She always reminds me to be thankful for my problems and to be thankful for the health that I do have. So here's what I have to say to the Facebook world, be thankful for your child's stomach bug because it'll run it's course and leave. To the lady who has a husband who is gone on business, be thankful because your husband has a job and is willing to go the distance to make sure that he can help provide for you. To the parents who complain about their child who has toys all over the floor, be thankful because your child is physically able to make decisions, play, and live the life of a child. I'm not saying this because I have all the answers, want pity or any of the sorts; however, there are families who will be spending the holidays in the hospital with children, with their parents, with people they love. Been there, done that. Be thankful for your problems. Be thankful for the smiles, the laughs, for the time you have with loved ones because you never know when they'll be called "home."

Thank you Momma for making time for me, for being my bull dog, for celebrating the otherwise simple accomplishments with me, and for the countless videos you provided me with over those 5 years. :) I love you, Momma! I'm glad that God gave me you to call "Mom." Nobody else could have done the job better.

"Why do you want to be a counselor?"

Mr. M, the interviewer at a university that I recently met up with, asked me "Why did you choose counseling? Why didn't you pick social work, research, or clinical work?"

Three months before this, I was sitting with my aunt asking her about the interviews that I was about to embark on , about the questions they were going to ask and what they wanted to hear. She gave me a list of questions and for the most part... I didn't have a clue how to answer them. Some of the questions were, 1) Why do you want to attend this university? 2) What do you want to do in the field of counseling? and 3) why did you choose to pursue counseling? After all the hard work that I did in my undergraduate, you would think that I would have a grasp on why I wanted to do what I wanted to do! I had always found the answers to a test in the lectures of my professors and in the minds of authors... I never had to think about why I chose psychology for my major. I just did. I had to start thinking of a way to answer these questions and not embarrass myself in the process.

When it came time for my interview, I knew how to answer 2 of the 3 questions: #1 "Well, this school is known for its credentials and it has a great reputation for it's counseling program. I have big dreams and I think that if I were to be accepted then this program would not only help me achieve those dreams but go far beyond those dreams."

2) "Definitely community counseling with teens and adults.

And 3)... the dreaded #3. I didn't know how to answer this question until the time came for me to answer this at my interview. You would think that this question is simple and that everyone has a well thought out reason why they choose a master's program...

Back to where we started. Mr. M asking me the dreaded question that I had been thinking about months.
This is what came out of my mouth: "When I was 7 I had had several strokes, and growing up in a small town, I always thought of myself as different. I walk funny. My hand would pull my hair. I was in special ed from the time I was in 5th grade up until 9th grade. I thought that everybody saw me as different."

Mr. M stopped me. "You mean, unique."

I looked at him with a smile and said, "No. I saw myself as different... like somehow, I was less human than everybody else in my school, in my small town. I wasn't what I would have called 'normal.' I felt as though every time I stepped in a room that people noticed me for all the wrong reasons. That they couldn't see who I really was because my shell was in the way. Then... Then I moved 2 and half hours away from that small town and went to the University of Central Arkansas. I quickly realized that people were too busy with their own lives to notice that I walk with a limp, that my hand doesn't work, that I might need a little more time to complete a task. It wasn't until I moved away that I began to see myself as Presley Darby. That I am a unique individual and not "different". That I can bring to the world a different point-of-view and that's a good thing. So to answer your question, Mr. M... The reason I want to be a counselor instead of a social worker, researcher or do anything else is because I want to help others see that they are more than what meets the eye. That they are unique individuals. That it is okay to not be okay. That they are who they are and that they have something to bring to the table."

I left everything out there in the open. I was honest with Mr. M and myself. I think somewhere in midst of Mr. Scole's class, college tests, studying, and being a lost college student... I forgot why I chose psychology as my major in the first place. It wasn't until I was put under pressure that I could finally let myself remember that, "oh yeah, I was a 'different' kid at one time," and that's why I want to be a counselor.

I know several people who are in college and/or about to graduate and if I could offer any advice to you (no matter if you are going for further education or not) would be to strip everything down to the basics. Why do you think that you would be good at this profession? Why did you choose this company/master's program? What skills do you have that others may not? What makes you... you? Be honest with yourself. There's no textbook out there that knows all the answers to who YOU are. Trust me... I looked for one with my name on it. Be confident and go after what you want. Nobody else is going to go after your dreams for you.