[an excerpt....]
. . . Divorce seems to bring out the stupid in people. Maybe more accurate would be that people are
many times unsure or even fearful of deep
waters - thus their silence or separation from their friendship or relationship with you during a divorce. Divorce is in the deep end of
the pool. I was myself afraid I would
drown and was finding out rare few were courageous enough to venture in the
deep with me. Rare few.
Sitting in my counselor’s office one evening after work, I
was struck by all the individual things I was seeing, feeling in front of
me. Mike was the 3rd counselor I had gone to in my 44 years of living. I came to him to set my crazy loose when
starting through the journey of divorce.
As I sat on the couch, the river current coursed by the patio doors that
overlooked its banks. I noted the
counselor’s shoeless feet which were covered in a wild pair of argyle socks
[Were those even in style, I wondered.] I glanced at the
messy, almost wildly strewn office and desk.
For whatever reason all the strange disorder, shoeless feet, rushing
current, seemed completely normal to me.
It seemed in fact, freeing.
And, I needed to be free.
The first time I ventured into
sharing my thoughts with a complete and total stranger was when I was 30. I had a breakdown from a self-epiphany, stayed in bed three solid days sobbing and then went to see someone about how to re-group in order to stay in a horrific
marriage. If I were going to survive, I
needed to get some things out and find a way to cope with what I knew my life was not full of.

Her name was Sue.
And, for a first experience of baring your soul to reorder it, she was
the perfect guide. A grandmotherly lady
who wore free flowing clothes, she exuded hope.
Sobbing is usually a part of counseling.
It signifies acknowledgement of loss.
And, I sobbed! She gave me
permission to forgive myself for the anger I held for choices I had made that put
me where I was - in a life that was
hard. She listened. She encouraged. She gave me some tools for coping. But mostly, she told me I was beautiful and
would someday come to know that. She was a woman of grace.
The second time I saw a counselor was after my first husband
and I moved back from an unsuccessful job move to Texas. His depression and behavior unchanging, my
ultimatum clearly stated if he did not get professional help it would be
over. This counselor held a doctorate and came highly recommended. My then husband went to see her for a season
alone, a much needed season. I tried as
best I could during those months to let healing take place in him, to allow
years of pain and bondage to be stripped away.
One day, fresh from the counselor, he confessed to me.
As the words of his confession came out, I felt nothing – there was just
nothing left in me. I didn’t yell. I didn’t even really feel angry. It made sense now this guilty presence I
always saw on him. I calmly and
rationally talked with him about his confession, almost like it was in third
person. I put my hurt away that day, realizing
once again this was about him. It always
had been.
He spoke of it matter of factly, as in past tense, like the
power-the hold wasn’t there now because he was free to say it out loud. Why was I so devastated over it? It was yet another way that he had once
again chosen himself over me. I think I
had known it for years but chose to ignore it because the weight was already
heavy enough.
I called Dr. Janelle.
“Would she have time to meet with me?” I asked her, explaining that I
had wanted my husband to have time with her without me for a awhile. I thought it best now if I came in too.
Hant is a word my grandmother Weldy used to say in place of
the word “hate”. She mispronounced that
word regularly. I hanted Dr. Janelle the
moment I walked in her office. I felt
bondage in the room. I felt limits and
borders. I knew without a word out of
her mouth that there was no way in hell this pairing of client to doctor would
ever work.
I truly believe God is a God of instantaneous. He spoke Creation into being, commanded
demons to flee, healed the lepers. I
truly believe God is a God of old to new.
Tattered to rebuilt. A God of
grace. I knew that from the inside of me
just like I knew my name was Nancy.
What I needed to come to understand deeper was just how much God loved
me. She though was not that vessel to me.
On our first joint session with Dr. Janelle she read the Bible
to us. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Bible. Steeped in the things of God, living a
journey of faith with God, a pastor’s wife for 25 years, I too loved the Bible.
Her method though was one that I had tried to live with unsuccessfully for the
past 25 years. She was giving me more of
the same. More bondage. More try harder. More forgiveness is the key. Sometimes there is not a magic key. There was not enough rosary bead
recitations that would fix this. Then what Dr. Janelle? Where does that leave me with God according to you?
Discussing personal and private things with someone who
knows not one thing of how you operate in life, what your personality bent is,
or the experiences that have collectively made you what you are, is a bit out
of bodyish. Dr. Janelle was clueless to the
nuisances of the clients in front of her - me.
Her approach was clinical. It was
strictly biblical. It was technical. It was without emotional intuition. It was rules. It was very, very fundamentalist. I was squelched.
I had lived by rules all my life starting as a child in a
home that was strict, at times stifling, and regimented. It was mind over matter. Pull yourselves up by your boot straps. Work harder.
Do your best and never let it rest.
Religiously, I grew up in a denomination that believed you could “lose”
your salvation. By choosing “sin”,
whether it be once, twice or three times a lady, you un-chose God. Or possibly, He might even un-choose
you.
We are collectively the sum of all things that created, affected, touched, were spoken, we witnessed, experienced or were taught us. That is a weird sort of mix in anybody! I have equated the magnitude of getting a divorce, based on the collective sum of all I was, to running a marathon, 26.2 miles, without ever having run even 50 yards.
We are collectively the sum of all things that created, affected, touched, were spoken, we witnessed, experienced or were taught us. That is a weird sort of mix in anybody! I have equated the magnitude of getting a divorce, based on the collective sum of all I was, to running a marathon, 26.2 miles, without ever having run even 50 yards.
Can't say enough about this one. Good job. You hit the nail on the head about those jumping from ship to ship instead of getting in the water. I'm still in the water, and will be there until the end of my life if necessary - if that is what is asked of my life. Forget about sayings - such as "there's someone for everyone". Those things are not true. I say that to illuminate the truth. "Some people never find love" - as my favorite therapist once said. I don't want that statement to be true, just like I don't wish anyone to be blind or paralyzed. But truths exist regardless of "sayings". I am struck by your courage to reveal very personal things - good job. You'll take flak for this post. If desired, continue to be that B-24 Liberator (world war II bomber) dropping bombs (of your truth) down onto us. I'd rather receive a direct hit, and be blessed by knowing someone more honestly, than to feel threatened by your honesty and send flak up your way as weak minds will surely do to you. MI
ReplyDeleteMI - as personal as you think they are, they are still filtered:) I think they are universal things - things many think, experience and feel. I just gave them words and maybe that is the courage you speak of. Thanks for the encouragement. So appreciated.
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