My sister was sexually abused growing up and continues to battle with depression. She goes to therapy every week and takes prescriptions to help her get through her dark times. I dealt with emotional and psychological abuse from my mother, and still do, though she'll flat out deny it if you confront her. I've tried many different ways to come to terms with the damage she's done and part of the fact that she doesn't acknowledge her wrong doing has made it even harder to forgive and forget. But, that is what I am called to do as a Christian, so I pray and give it to God. Some days are better than others, but that's true for everyone, right?
My sister thinks I should see a therapist. She seems to think everyone needs to see a therapist. That works for her and it's wonderful. I'm happy for her that she has that outlet. I'm not a therapy kind of person. Talking to a stranger who's not walked in my shoes seems senseless. I don't care how many college degrees they have hanging on the wall, they really can't understand my life if they haven't lived it. And it seems the answer they want to slap on every issue is to dish out anti-depressants. I've been down that route befpre and pills are not my fix-all.
To me, God is my therapist and prayer my prescription. If anyone knows my heart, it's God. If anyone can heal my heart, again, it would be God. Not another imperfect human sitting on the chair across from me, handing me a box of tissues and refilling my Prozac. (Haha--I keep flashing on the Geico commercial--Yellow makes me sad...You know what makes me sad? YOU DO!! Michael and I would play that one over and over on the DVR busting a gut...The only commercial I'd actually stop to watch...but, I digress...) Not to poo-poo the whole therapy thing--if it works for you, great. It's simply not for me.
Anyway, this all came up yesterday on the phone. She thought I was upset about deciding not to contact our aunt or younger sister, but I'm not. I truly have peace with that. I've lived my whole life without them and have done so quite happily. I have no doubt that the remainder of my life will be just as happy. You can't miss what you never had, right? Not a big deal. Affording Christmas, the possibility of moving, these things are weighing more heavily on the plate. So, I give it up to God and pray for His will in His time and appreciate my daily bread. Life is good.
I lift my eyes up to the hills-
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.