I may be a writer but the hardest thing for me has always been starting out. I firmly believe that the first few lines set the tone for an entire work, be it a short story, novel or scholarly paper. That said, I procrastinate writing a lot, even when it is something I want to write about. Like this blog post. You see I went to my first counseling session the other day since I was in forced therapy as a kid.
Yep, you got me, forced. To this day I'm not really sure why it was so important that I went as often as I had to. It may have been because of my B.D., or for my ADHD and Anxiety, I'm not sure. I just remember dreading those visits when I had to go into that cold office with the fat Navy Shrink who always called me a Peach and sitting on his fake leather couch. I was always asked how I felt and I never knew what to say. I was a five year old who wished there was more sunlight in the day so I didn't have to come in when the streetlight came on.
Anyways, I was in weekly therapy until I was ten years old and I hated every minute of it. I've known for awhile I should attend therapy of some sort if not just to hear someone with an education tell me to relax. I plan most of my encounters with people ahead of time. Yes, I lay in bed at night and think of conversation topics and how to answer questions. I can't help it, I've done it since I was a kid. If truth were to be told, I honestly think I am partly OCD. So in preparation for my counseling session I laid awake most of the night trying to decide where it all started. When my alcoholism got worse? When Jeremy died? When my best friend lashed out at me? When my mom got remarried? When my parents divorced? When B.D. was abusive? I honestly couldn't decide where to start. But this session was very important to me and I wanted to make the most of it.
You see, I finally got Fella to agree to come with me, not just for my sake, or our relationships sake but his as well. I just had to make sure we got as much out of this session as we could. I won't delve into details, but we both come from similar pasts, similar struggles and similar presents.
We started out the session with prayer and I was glad for it. This immedietely showed me how much I have grown and healed over the past year. I used to be so adverse to prayer in instances like this. After being bullied into prayer all my life I wanted it to be private and unfortunately sporadic at best.
Our wonderful counselor Cyndi asked me right off the bat what keeps me up at night. I guess she knew that I'm an insomnia who has anxiety attacks at night. Or maybe it was a lucky guess. I began slowly devolving how I struggle to feel like I do enough every day or ever. I was admittedly a little annoyed when she related this back to God with the question of "How do you think God feels about this?" But, when she prodded a little bit more about my answer and I honestly said "I feel like He is disappointed because he has a plan for my life and I'm not getting there soon enough", I realized it is truly how I feel.
And let me tell you dear readers, the truth will set you free.
From there we chatted a little more and it was truly enlightening. I may not have been completely honest, only because I didn't know the truth myself, but as the session went on the truth was revealed to me. We finished by her asking me for three words that describe my childhood. The words I used were rough, forgotten and abusive. They were hard to admit, even though I freely talk about my childhood. I suppose when it is described with one word versus a lofty paragraph or two that ends with me where I am now it is much more apparent.
The session ended with Carl talking with her as well as a great devotional exercise I will share later this week. She referred me to a Christian Counselor outside of the church. Even better the church pays for the first six sessions. I honestly feel like I will need more than six, but hopefully by then I'll be in a good financial state and able to pay for more.
All in all it was such a better experience. No fat Navy doctors, no cold offices, no fake leather couches. Just a smiling (and at times crying) woman, a warm room that was brightly lit and a super comfy love seat.
O and of course Fella's and my feels all over the place as Cyndi
described things. But that is for another post as well :)
We started out the session with prayer and I was glad for it. This immedietely showed me how much I have grown and healed over the past year. I used to be so adverse to prayer in instances like this. After being bullied into prayer all my life I wanted it to be private and unfortunately sporadic at best.
Our wonderful counselor Cyndi asked me right off the bat what keeps me up at night. I guess she knew that I'm an insomnia who has anxiety attacks at night. Or maybe it was a lucky guess. I began slowly devolving how I struggle to feel like I do enough every day or ever. I was admittedly a little annoyed when she related this back to God with the question of "How do you think God feels about this?" But, when she prodded a little bit more about my answer and I honestly said "I feel like He is disappointed because he has a plan for my life and I'm not getting there soon enough", I realized it is truly how I feel.
And let me tell you dear readers, the truth will set you free.
From there we chatted a little more and it was truly enlightening. I may not have been completely honest, only because I didn't know the truth myself, but as the session went on the truth was revealed to me. We finished by her asking me for three words that describe my childhood. The words I used were rough, forgotten and abusive. They were hard to admit, even though I freely talk about my childhood. I suppose when it is described with one word versus a lofty paragraph or two that ends with me where I am now it is much more apparent.
The session ended with Carl talking with her as well as a great devotional exercise I will share later this week. She referred me to a Christian Counselor outside of the church. Even better the church pays for the first six sessions. I honestly feel like I will need more than six, but hopefully by then I'll be in a good financial state and able to pay for more.
All in all it was such a better experience. No fat Navy doctors, no cold offices, no fake leather couches. Just a smiling (and at times crying) woman, a warm room that was brightly lit and a super comfy love seat.
O and of course Fella's and my feels all over the place as Cyndi
described things. But that is for another post as well :)
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