Of Counselors…

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.

Advertisements
  1. #1 by Kenny on May 16, 2005 - 5:46 am

    Hi JoAnn…thankyou for visiting my space & your kind words. I am fortunate indeed to have anyone drop by, let alone post anything, given that I haven\’t updated my space much. Your words are appreciated ! (Especially when I read your blogs such as this one.) You write directly from your heart & share so unselfishly good or bad. That is an admirable thing that not many can achieve. Stay strong, stay happy & remember you are just as important as anyone in spaces !Smiles AlwaysKenny

  2. #2 by Stephen on May 16, 2005 - 9:20 am

    JoAnn -Thanks for sharing such a personal story of being a survivor of sexual abuse. I too am a survivor, but my abuser wasn\’t either of my parents but a relative of a neighbor. I remember how hard it was talking to my therapist about it, how it made me feel and has affected my life, and still does in some ways. I can also relate to having a therapist come into your life, creating a strong, close bond and then have them leave for another position. Of course their career moves are their own and sometimes need to move on. It\’s just very hard loosing a trusted friend. About six months ago, I read the obituary of my abuser with his picture plasterd in the death notice. All it did was bring back all the memory and horrors along with it. I can\’t imagine what it\’s like to have had a parent do what he did to me, like in your case. I can relate it though, my mother was abused by my grandfather. It was something that grabbed her life and wouldn\’t let go – just know that I empathize with your struggle and wish only the best for you and the battles you have faced with strength and courage!-Stephen

  3. #3 by barbara on May 16, 2005 - 11:41 am

    Jo, I am sending you a hug. {{}} (Kim taught me that!) I want you to know that I am hoping good things will happen to a good person – YOU.

  4. #4 by Kim on May 16, 2005 - 4:09 pm

    Just checking in on ya. {{ }}sending blessings and extra angels

  5. #5 by SillyCrystalD on May 16, 2005 - 6:47 pm

    hey there you! 🙂 making rounds…I hope you\’re doing well, take care of yourself 🙂

  6. #6 by Zen on May 17, 2005 - 1:05 pm

    OK. seriously, what are you hanging on to that junk for? You owe allegiance to no one but yourself. Even your son is old enough to take care of himself. This is YOUR time.You once wrote of how you stood up to your mother\’s abuse. You wrote glowingly, happily, proudly. In that moment you were whole and grounded. There’s your key. There’s your lesson. You did it once, you have the strength of character to do it again.Don’t make the mistake of thinking you are what others tell you you are or you are what others treat you as. You can’t deal with all that crap until YOU KNOW YOU. And you do. Be that person then. It’s a simple as that. Know yourself, and take it from there.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: