I’ve got counselling again on Monday. It kind of feels like it’s getting to crunchtime in a way. And there’s still some stuff I haven’t really talked about, because I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to begin. So I’m going to give it a trial run, here. I’ve also got to change my tack and course pretty quickly as it’s become clearer and clearer in the last few weeks that my flatmate needs a lot of attention at the moment, but more about that another time.
I think part of it is that I want to know what L (counsellor) thinks about me but at the same time, I’m terrified of this. I want to know if she thinks I’ll actually get over and through all this, or if I’m going to be one of those people who get caught in mental health services and diagnoses, and never leave. I don’t want to be walking with a label for the rest of my life. I want this year to be a blip on the radar, not the start of a whole lot of crazy. I’m scared to know what she says. I have to know what she says.
Sometimes I can’t decide if I’m incredibly self-centred, or incredibly other-centred. My first (disastrous) counsellor told me that I was so codependant I would never have a ‘normal’ relationship (yup, she said that). The blog however sometimes feels self-indulgent, and this last year has certainly made me re-evaluate how I often don’t value my own health and needs against those of others. I don’t know whether it’s better to run around after other people until I collapse, which is how the last few weeks have felt, or to stand and guard my heart and put myself first, as I’m learning, occasionally, to do. For some reason, I just can never seem to get the right balance. It’s as though I was born with a weight on one shoe, or something. I’m always off-kilter. I’m always left of the middle.
Despite the fact I’m seeing a church-based, Christian counsellor, and have a blog where I basically write about either depression or God, L and I never talk about faith. In many ways, I am a hushed sort of evangelist, a bit of a fraud. I’m pretty eloquent on paper, but tend to stumble if I try to speak about what I believe. My faith is so close to my core, and so close to the heart of my depression; I don’t know how to explain or describe how painful it was to feel so separated, both from God, and from everyone. I sort of think I need to cover this; if I’m going to grow in faith, if I’m ever going to have any sort of leading role in the church, I need to be ok at talking about it. Counselling sounds like an obvious place to sort that. And yet, I’m afraid. I don’t quite trust her, with that layer of myself. I’ve sort of realised recently that my ‘spiritual needs’ aren’t that well met; although I have some wonderful supporters on this blog (who probably don’t realise just how much their prayers mean to me), I don’t get much ‘in real life’; since my trust was spectacularly broken last year, it’s taken a while to trust the church again.
Last Sunday, I was praying with my head down and feeling pretty crowded out, when a women I didn’t know, who was just visiting for the evening, asked if she could pray for me. I’m afraid of prayer from others, sometimes; I’ve had too many experiences of people thinking they can say something hurtful just because they’ve put a ‘God-stamp’ on it. In the two years I’ve been at my church, no one has ever asked if they can pray for me. For most of those two years, I’ve also been too afraid, or depressed, to ask.
But last week, it reminded me so strongly of why it is that the Bible says that when there’s more than two of you together, He’s also there. It’s that kind of synergistic energy you suddenly feel when someone has a hand on your back and prays you back on track. It’s that kind of triangulation between you, another person and God, that helps you work out where you stand and where you’re going. It’s that need we all have for someone to ask for the things we can’t ask for ourselves. I think I need this. Faith, any faith, isn’t just a personal thing; it’s a remoulding, a remodelling of who you are. As it deepens, you start to tesselate with people on the same path; there’s a space for you, a space only, for you. And if you’re not slotting in, you’re just a shape on your own, outwith the big picture, not quite fitting into your surroundings.
I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment, between job applications, family stuff, flatmate stuff, placement stuff and God stuff – despite lots of attempts to find some peace and quiet, it’s just not really working at the moment; I’m going by the still waters but am not really feeling that restored. Hopefully this will pass. Love, char48.
