Meet my Therapists
I woke up this morning and didn't cry. I wasn't sure when that was ever going to happen again. I've spent 2 weeks in what's felt like purgatory, trying desperately to simply make it through the day without being committed somewhere in a straight jacket. Depressed, straight basket case. But this morning I woke up without immediate fear and panic... maybe it was the appointment to carve out two chunks of my scalp for a biopsy (wasn't prepared to wake up and go get stitches) or maybe it was the double dose of anxiety medication last night, but either way, I'll take the win. In fact, I made it until my therapist appointment at 5 pm before I cried today. And I was even able to eat a meal without being sick.
My life has given me a plethora of stories to unfold. Some people don't understand the sense in my sharing of them, thinking I simply seek the attention. There are those, however, that thank me for sharing what others are afraid to, and are grateful, for a moment, to not feel so alone. And in that spirit, I want to share my testimony of this evening.
My therapist is a GEM! I met her in 2015, after what had been the hardest life curveball I had experienced thus far at the time. Last year, I had a half-kook consultant insinuate that I have been seeing her for too long to determine whether she has credible commentary about me. *insert eyeroll* Trust me when I tell you she has no problem telling me I'm wrong. She's equal parts empathy and no bullshit. She's not afraid to cuss, and she knows when and how to stand up against what I have to say and correct me. This women knows it all. Even the icky stuff about myself that I'm ashamed to admit. And after tonight, I am grateful to have had her in my life as long as I have.
Today she fought with the woman inside me, shouldering the blame of a thousand moments, "You didn't make anyone decide to do what they did. In the same way as when your kids are fighting and one points the finger at the other and says 'well she made me do it'." Each person is responsible for how they act and react. Sometimes people aren't fully healed as a person, sometimes there are mistakes made, sometimes people aren't taught how to handle things, but it isn't always up to me to take the action or to collect all of the blame.
Seems simple. But see, it's just not in my head. I'm a helper, a caretaker, I love people real loud-like. I assume responsibility for the stuff that's hard for other people because I naturally and honestly want to lighten their load for them. So oftentimes I find myself taking the blame as 'well I knew better' - its all my fault for not doing something different. Whereas my therapist asks, "But why aren't your needs and comforts as important as theirs?" Touché. However, this doesn't always align with the inner healer in me, that wants to make hardship easier for others. And this is where I find myself sacrificing my needs or wants 'just this time' because 'it's easier for me than them', and I don't want to make things harder for them. ...Until one night, on the first day of Aunt Flo's visit, when the 'I am woman, hear me roar' rears it's confident head, challenges the cycle and declares: my needs matter too.
*cringe* Mayyyyybe that was too strong.
Then... I find myself back on the familiar tracks, carrying the weight of the event as my own doing. "I knew better."
There was another nugget of insight we stumbled upon together relating to this. (Listen up on this one, like-minded control-freaks, free therapy. You're welcome.) It's no secret I am terrified of the unknown. It feeds the rabid anxiety in me like flies on... you get it. This makes me a great planner, but (for fear of the possibility that something may deviate and go awry,) a tad bit of a control freak. With so much excessive uncertainty in my last 6 years or more, this has been a daily struggle to overcome, or at least manage. I've had to learn to let go of a lot (Lord, help me), try to 'go with the flow' more and has deepened my faith in God. But, it's a practice I don't always get right. Tonight my therapist pointed out a side of this hypervigilance I had never seen before: "Maybe, Amy, when you accept all the blame, you're able to make sense of situation by telling yourself if you would have done things different, it wouldn't have happened." Mind blown. Trying to take responsibility (or control) of events in order to process or make sense of the "what ifs". Let that one simmer a minute in you.
I can't tell you how this pattern of thoughts came to be. Maybe it's just one of those things, ingrained accidentally in my childhood brain. My therapist believes, no matter where it began, it was only aggravated and heightened during my marriage. I told her I don't feel like I'll ever be able to stop it, and she advocated again, "...but look at the clarity you've learned since then." Everything's a practice.
After therapy, the kids and I buzzed over to our Wednesday night bible study. We read over Paul's letters to the Romans. We discussed what stuck out to us and what we thought this meant for our own lives. Amongst my group, we settled into the ideas that we are still all so flawed, but there is hope. That we cannot do for others what they need to do for themselves, but that this doesn't make anyone less loved. There was so much wisdom shared around my table, everyone so genuinely showing the juxtaposition in their own hearts, like Paul explains the Torah and the New Convenant - seemingly different ways or rules but unified by the love and forgiveness we must all have for each other. A gentleman cheekily credited the good grace's of his wife by casually adding "...married 57 years, we're a work in progress". Married 57 dang years, to who he says is a 'sweetheart' and having the understanding that they are, and will likely forever be, works in progress. Together. How beautiful is that? Another gentleman reflecting, "We can't fix the broken, but we can live together in a broken world."
We're all a little broken. We're all practicing. Romans 12:18 says "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone," recognizing that it's hard to always do what is right and good each time things feel out of our control, but we must always keep trying to do our best and be our best. Not to give up, but to face things beyond our control or comprehension with a positive expection of a good outcome. And that's hope.
It was amazing to witness my therapy session bleed into my bible study, or vice versa, and it was a blessing. Did it lift the darkness I feel seizing my chest? No. Will it save me from the anguish or tears tomorrow will bring? Probably not. But it did bring a bit of peace that I can cling to for a moment, knowing I'm not alone. This has been a battle in our hearts since the beginning of time.
So I will leave you with a prayer my table gifted me with this evening, the Serenity Prayer:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.
Be well my friends, keep getting back up and doing your best. ♡