Life has been interesting to say the least these last few months, and I’m still trying to figure out what to make of it all. Over the last several years of highs and lows, I’ve learned that it’s ok to not have all the answers, and it’s ok if big things don’t always make sense at the time (or ever.) I’ve learned that it’s ok to not know how to pray, or what you even want to pray for. I’ve learned it’s ok to not be sure of how you’re really doing, or how blessings could possibly come through pain. I’ve learned that God is faithful with or without my permission, and that God doesn’t need me to tell Him how to be God. He’s God, the Great I Am, and that’s enough for me…but as I’ve sat bearing the full weight of the unknown, I’ve still sought some sort of validation from this ol world.
I’ve needed someone else to give me permission to feel the way I feel. I’ve needed someone else to be hurt over what breaks my heart. I’ve needed someone else to see hope in the midst of uncertainty, and for some reason I’ve still needed someone else to tell me it’s all going to be ok, and that I’m not crazy for having a hard time dealing with things that have felt so hard for so long.
In the midst of trying to come to terms with all that’s happened over the last 8 years specifically, and try to begin to dig into the trauma I’ve carried for so long, I reached out to counseling services I’ve only attempted one other time before. My mental health has been in critical condition for so long that I knew I had to do something different. I owe it to myself and to my family, to not continue to carry the weight of every difficult thing in our lives, letting it erode my soul to an unrecognizable image of who I once was. I’m tired of trying to make sense of things that don’t make sense, and I’m tired of trying to be ok with things I may never be ok with.
The intake questionnaire was lengthy, like 30-45 minutes worth of questions I had never thought would be important to explain, but I answered each portion honestly (to a fault even) because I hoped that by giving a professional the full picture of everything they wanted to know (even the things I don’t feel impacted by) they would have a better idea of how to help me sort through the important things I need to heal.
I’m not entirely sure how the full process works, I just know that once they review your file, providers have the opportunity to decide if they feel capable of trying to help you, and then they contact you to dig deeper into the questions you’ve answered in advance. The process felt long and daunting, at times I’ve wondered if it would ever be seen at all, but I’ve trusted that they do things the way they do for a reason, and that even the hardest parts of my own story won’t seem like such a big deal to someone who helps people sort through the messy things day after day.
As I sat across from a woman holding the answers to my questions in her hands, she explained that when she looked over my chart, she expected I would be a hot mess beyond their capability to help. As we took each question, piece by piece and I explained the things that are most difficult for me, and why (to the best of my ability) she was surprised by how seemingly normal and self aware that I am, considering all that my questionnaire contained.
At first I was satisfied thinking “well at least I’m doing better than to be expected…” knowing all that they know (but also don’t know) but as I’ve had some time to think about that, it’s really eaten away at me.
I’ve spent the rest of the entire day wondering how many people passed me by because they saw my story on paper, without ever getting to know my heart? How many people only saw me as a hot mess contained within several pages of black and white, but have no clue what I have to offer the world outside of trying to sort through the really heavy things? How many people wouldn’t even consider helping me wade through the things I’ve never told another person out loud, even though it’s what they do day after day for others?
How many times have I been the one on the other side of the room, dismissing people because I know their story but not their heart? How many times would I dare not get involved if I knew the hot messes I felt ill equipped to fix, when all they actually needed was for me to listen? How many times do I glance upon circumstances I truly know nothing about, and make a snap decision about someone before ever giving them the time of day?
I’m not too broken to be listened to, cared about, or loved.
I know I’m not perfect, and I have a lot that I need to work through, but that’s what makes me human.
I pray that if I gain anything from that interaction, it’s an eagerness to hear people for the opportunity to see beautiful pieces of their heart, rather than dismissing them because I know parts of their story.
I’m so glad that someone was willing to take a chance on me, because I’m so much more than the sum of my story…and so are you.
No comments:
Post a Comment