One of the wounds that I carry is the affliction of having an N counselor who in the last few years that went on a hogwild slander spree of me within my faith community, pointing the finger at my dysfunction and past life of childhood abuses and more, even if she was doing it in acting compassion, pity, or fake love, it was done.
It still haunts me, the ways that while truly coping, reaching for faith and truth, seeking to heal by self revealing honesty and grace, the ways this counselor hogwild but covert style went after me. It stirs instense shame and confusion and has been another driving force in pushing me into the darkness, another pain to overcome while overcoming.
I am trying to let her lies go, let them just be the lies that they were, to see past them. This counselor made me feel bad for having pain, when in counseling sessions I would feel ashamed for speaking about my history, as if it was wrong or that I was unfixable because her head would go all the way down out of eye contact and she would just get silent, it was always so confusing. For so long I thought and rationalized that her silence and head putting down was her intense compassion, that she was just showing me that no words could be said in the face of the stories of pain I was sharing. But I could not make sense of what my belly would say, how her silence and her real inability to transmit or convey silent compassion would actually shut me down emotionally rather than help get the tears out that I was seeking to get out, those cleansing healing tears.
When I would leave our sessions I would be confusion and what seemed more in denial, without much direction to go in. No other counselor was ever like that to me, especially when I was trying to share my feelings of past pains, trying to heal, I could feel other therapists compassion, their hearts, I could cry in their presence, feeling safe. I could never feel that way with her, it was confusing, there seemed nothing in her heart, but her act was so good, that I had to just believe she had a heart.
Also, the times when I was angry at my father for abandoning, she would look at me with intense fear and somehow convey that my anger was wrong. When I would try to talk to her about my anger issues it was if I was being bad, being bad for even having the emotion. I would feel even more ashamed for being wounded. That is how I feel now, again.
Her way of treating me in the last many years as unfixable and broken perpetuate the belief that I am broken beyond repair. She made me feel that God only reserves grace for those He loves and that I was too messed up for His healing love and grace.
I am still trying to mend the damage that a N counselor did, the lies that so wounded me when I was already so down but trying so hard, with all my heart, to be lifted up by God's healing grace.