A month or so ago I decided to consider finding a therapist. Someone to help me navigate the overwhelming emotions that go along with chronic pain and illness. That is a hard step you know, admitting you need help to process your life. Especially so for a christian for some reason. But that is a topic for another time.
I looked into BetterHelp.com (something I highly recommend after seeing how much is has helped people I know). I had emailed them, been connected with a counselor and was just waiting to put in my financial info after I had talked to James about it. Not because I need his permission, but because I value his input and we do this thing called life together. Also, he does the books, so its only fair to let him know if I am going to start regularly dropping money on something. Before I made my final decision I had a regular check up with my doctor and decided to mention it to her, to see what she thought. She told me she was actually going to bring up the idea to me and I beat her to it. I told her about better help and that I was about ready to pull the trigger, when she said that they had just added a counselor to their practice, and if I was interested I could chat with her and see if she might be a good fit. The cost would be the same as a regular office visit, which is very cheap for me since I am on their sliding fee scale due to our income. So I said sure, and waited a while for the therapist to get freed up to talk to me. I had the time and didn't mind the wait, as this seemed very providential for me.
Finally, this sweet gal named Megan came out and said hello and led me to her office. She is probably about the age of my daughter, though I am terrible guessing ages, especially in the age of masks! We chatted for a while and I have to admit I was a little hesitant. Now that I am the ripe old age of 54, everyone under 40 is a kid. And I wondered if this lovely, young lady, who specializes in family and couples therapy would really be able to help out an older adult who has been dealing with life in general, and chronic pain for the past 10 years, but in truth has dealt with is most of my adult life one way or another. But I decided to put my apprehension aside and give it a shot. And I am really glad I did. We have met 4 times, and as we did a quick "check in" today I can already see the benefit of it. The weight feels less heavy somehow. Even though I know a lot of what i need to do already, she helps me put in it practical terms, and since we meet weekly it stays in the front of my mind. And it is good to have a time where, while we are dealing with the chronic pain part of my puzzle, we are also dealing with deep seeded false believes and lies I have allowed myself to believe for many years. Undoing years of negative, harsh and graceless self talk I have lashed myself with, mentally. Saying things to myself I would never say to an enemy, much less a friend who might be in the same situation.
So, today as we talked about goals for the coming months I mentioned that I used to write. I found it an outlet to express things, often in word pictures that helped me process things like death, and hard times etc. She asked me if I had ever written about my pain. And I had to stop and think. I know I have, but not from the place where I find myself now. I usually write when I am inspired by a thought or word picture, or processing deep emotion. But somehow, I kept pushing away the idea of writing about my current state of being. Not exactly sure why, but I guess I was afraid that I did not have any great analogies most days, or someone might judge me or I might look like a disappointment or maybe I was just embarrassed for the world to know what life can be like these days. Just the daily slogging through the sometimes deep marsh of dealing with a chronic illness. The heaviness of the darkness that can overtake you like a dark storm cloud you see on the horizon but cant outrun. Or the cacophony of voices that just drown out the truth of who you are, and who you belong too and who is really in charge of this thing we call life.
So, now I have an assignment this week. To consider writing again. Even if to just jot things down to ponder later. To read over old posts and see where I have been and where I am now. To find myself again? To rediscover the real me? or maybe, to figure out who I am now. Because I never will be the person I was in my 20's, or 30's or 40's, and to be honest, I should not want to be. For if I try to become that person again, I will be missing out on all the growth and lessons learned over the past 10 years of struggle.
So, here I am. Ready to continue my blogging journey. And you are welcome to join me. I have this blog locked up pretty tight, as I do not have a thick enough skin to let just anyone comment. But if I know you, and you want to follow me, I would be honored.
-Always in the Grip of His Grace,
Kim
OH! And I will be joining a group for adults with chronic pain soon, so that should certainly give much to process I am sure.
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