Counselors were not much good for me during many years when they so earnestly tried to help me. There was a wall between us. A silence I would not break. I could speak to a point then I would close up. There were others to be protected by my quiet. The wall was the sexual abuse my father heaped on me all my life. I could not reveal it for it would destroy my world and the dependant worlds of others. My mother was a beneficiary of this silence and my father was saved from prison by my quiet.
After he died in 1996 I finally told my current counselor what I had buried for so many years. We began to work through the accumulated damage of so many years. Mary was her name and I owe her a great deal for being gentle with me and listening to a story too disturbing for many to hear. She worked with me tirelessly for a few years, but shortly after I wrote a poem to her detailing the greatness I saw in her she moved out of county mental health. At the time I was handed over to a new counselor who Mary told, "Jo Ann is the kind of person who could have books written about her."
My new counselor Braswell did not even get to see me for many months because I was bedridden due to my pregnancy with twins who had twin to twin transfusion syndrome. That pregnancy ended when one twin died in my uterus and I had to make the horrible decision to terminate the remaining twin due to complications described by the neonatal specialist. When Braswell began to see me our connection was immediate and I told her some of the darkest secrets still hidden in me. She reacted with love and acceptance. Her kindness gave me hope that I could live in the world with others who valued me.
When I told Braswell how afraid of Hell I was because of the unpardonable sin, she went to find all she could to allay my fears. She went to authorities in her church and asked for clarification and came back armed with facts to set my fears aside. She loved me enough to go out beyond her own self and search for help for me.
While Braswell was still seeing me Dr. Klopper offered me to get involved with a trainee named Brenda. She was working toward licensure from her RN status. It was free to me and allowed me to have more frequent visits. Brenda began recording our sessions with my permission to help her get through school. Not long after Brenda finished her studies Braswell moved from county mental health to a wonderful private facility. Now I cannot see her anymore.
Recently Brenda has moved to only two days a week at Dr. Klopper’s office. This has put me in the position where everyone wants me in the intensive after-care program. I know there is still enough of all the damage that wrecks havoc on me still buried inside to cause me a great deal of problems. I am working on it all, but my emotions are not stable or healed.