
This morning, I took a walk down by the waterway. This is nothing new, as I do this quite frequently, but this morning there was something so different. This time, I wanted to be down by the water to think, instead of viewing this as a task that needed to be done in order to get my daily steps in.
Alone with my thoughts, I found myself at peace, something I haven't experienced in a while. It was in that moment I realized that I wasn't completely alone. There was life all around...the gentle breeze producing its hushed whisper through the thicket of leaves, the sounds of the birds and the gentle lapping of the water on the edge of the bank, allowed for me to be fully present in the moment.
It was there I felt the closeness of God...and I needed that. The feeling of being surrounded by hope and love and grace enveloped me like never before. I suppose this awareness of the presence of God, I was currently experiencing, had been there through some of my darkest days, but I just couldn't feel it...maybe it was because I didn't think I was worthy enough, or because I was too afraid to admit that God could truly love the sinner...Being human means I have not always made the right decisions and that's where I struggle with my own guilty conscience.
I reflected on the toughness of therapy and the work it demands. Yesterday's session touched on a topic that I know needs my attention and in all honesty has needed it for a long time. But it is also a place of deep hurt and it's a place I have difficulty talking about. And because it will eventually expose those hurts I've been running from, I have not wanted to hash out those emotions. I have built a wall of protection but at some point, and it looks like it's going to be sooner rather than later, I'm going to have to let that wall crumble a bit...
Some of my past therapists have never really gotten off the trauma trail, nor talked about any of life's other difficult situations with me. However, Gina has proven to be good at her job. She has moves and countermoves that suck me into that space I've tried so hard to bury...the space I've surrounded by walls trying to keep it all within my control. She's done this on more than one occasion, and honestly, I expect her to keep this up as we continue our work together. I think we both know that I've needed to air out a number of issues for a long time. Her ability to get me to open up is also based off mutual trust and respect, something I've not always felt I had with other therapists. And the fault lies with me for not always opening up. I said just enough, and did enough, to get through those sessions, keep the pain to a minimum and move on.
I honestly believe the willingness to work through it all now, is because I'm ready. I'm ready to talk about my fears, expectations and the trauma. I'm ready to talk about my guilt and the pain from the job. It is almost a relief to be able to get this stuff out, but at times, after the conversation, I wish I had never opened my mouth....once it's out, then the feeling I've made a mistake talking about it creeps in. In reality, I know it's not a mistake...but it can sometimes feel like it's easier to run backwards into an area that has become comfortable than it is to move forward into the unknown.
I thought this morning was such a special time and I was feeling the best I have in weeks...and then I decided to check the mail. There was an envelope addressed to me, from Atlanta, containing the medical records from my psychiatrists which I had requested back in March. From the postmark, it had taken over a month just to arrive and the envelope was all tattered and torn. It's a wonder the information contained in it actually survived the trip.
I sat down outside to read the report, knowing it would be information I was already well aware of. But in that moment, my day suddenly went from happy to hell. The more I read the notes from my four psychiatrists, the more I did not recognize myself. I began to get defensive and angry. This was not me...how could these things be placed in my file without me knowing? Of course, some of the more obvious things I knew, like the multiple diagnoses, but it was the documentation from our conversations that threw me. These people didn't know me at all and...I felt betrayed. I had good reason to be upset at these findings, or did I.
The defensive mood and the anger subsided when I realized that sometimes on the journey to heal, we have to hear some things about ourselves that we don't want to necessarily hear. But if we don't have people in our corner looking out for us, then what do we really have? My only thought right now, is I wish someone had shared that part of my evaluation with me. I cannot correct the behavior or at least work through it, if I'm not aware of it, then again, maybe I was doing the best I could at the time.
I have not always been happy with the therapy sessions I had in Atlanta. But maybe they were enough at the time. I don't think I can be upset about that anymore. That part of my healing journey was the first step and now the next chapter is in place.
I am a believer that God puts us where we need to be, with people we need to be with. I am blessed to have Gina as my current therapist...and I'm blessed to have Sue, Tiffany, Jenn and the herd at Barnabas. Hard truths do produce the most growth. And what I learned today was difficult to hear...but just maybe it shed a little more light, and motivation, towards the work I need to do and allow for healing to continue in a healthy way...
~Parker
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