Spilt my guts
I'm getting counselling.
One of my housemates is taking a degree in counselling, and part of her course requirements calls for her to hold actual counselling sessions with "clients" and record those sessions. She was hunting for victims "counsellees" (if there's such a thing) when I opened my big mouth and volunteered myself.
"Are you sure? I need someone with problems," she said.
"Oh, I have lots of problems!" I flippantly countered.
"And I'll have to record the session," she fretted.
I said that was fine with me.
"I'll also need three sessions, coz my lecturer wants to see me follow-up," she told me.
I agreed to three sessions.
Then she got a bit worried: "I won't be solving your problems for you, you know. Only guiding you to solve them for yourself."
That was fine by me.
So, during the first session, I told her about my job; how I know I could do better, most of the time, yet I don't, and then proceed to feel guilty about it. I talked about motivation, and job satisfaction, and giving 100% to one's work. About wanting to somehow impact or influence others' lives for the better, and whether my job allows me the opportunity to do so.
On Saturday, we had the second session, after a two-week break. I got to telling her my fear of what others - specifically my boss and colleagues - think of me, my worry that while I'm still struggling to do better, they'll run out of patience and condemn me for the sorry person I am.
Suddenly, she asked me to tell her what I really think of myself. How do I see myself? And I found myself blurting out statements such as: "I'm always trying to change but I'm never getting there" and "I have lots of good intentions but they never take shape". I couldn't believe that was me saying those things. I couldn't believe that I was articulating the silent fears that haunt me - seven damning statements in all.
"Who said these things to you? Who told you that you would never change?" she questioned.
"My father," I blurted, and tears began running down my cheeks.
She offered to stop the recording, but I opted to continue; it seemed appropriate. I'd thought I'd put the past behind me. I'd thought, now that my relationship with Dad is so much better, I'd gotten over the things that had happened before. Obviously not. *wry grimace*
She made me go down the list - all seven items - and reverse them. She made me say, "I'm trying to change, and I will get there. I have good intentions, and they will take shape." It was unbelievably hard. So amazingly hard to say those words and mean them.
I cried buckets. She ended the session, then spoke to me as a sister in Christ: taking the list, she tore it in half, saying, "These are all lies, Sunflower. They are just words. They are not true," and I cried even harder.
She made me tear the list up into tiny bits. She hugged me and prayed for me and told me that I am a beautiful swan, not an ugly duckling... and I felt loved. I felt hope, something that I have not allowed myself to feel in a long, long time.
I must say I didn't know what I was getting into when I agreed to be "counselled", but I can only be thankful. I'm blessed to have housemates like her. So blessed...