Without a script
by Elouise
Appalled
My eyes retrace the
Tortuous path from
There to here
No magic formula
No prewritten script
No sense of how this
Will play out
With every page
My eyes tear up
Full of anguish
And the pain of
Reality writ large
Planning notes plus
Letters of disbelief
And anger magnify
the stakes on all sides
Win-win is not guaranteed
In this upside-down world
In which eldest daughter
Persists to the bitter end
Not for money or a break-through
But for her own sanity
And adult identity
During the last several days I reviewed my 1993 planning file for a once in a lifetime meeting with my parents. I chose the eve of my 50th birthday. At the time, I was a professor at the seminary, depressed, and unable to relate as an adult to my parents. My father was a pastor, my mother was a church musician, and we four daughters were the preachers’ kids. A high stakes family.
My depression had become unmanageable. I needed professional help. One of my pastors, a woman, recommended several psychotherapists. I was terrified when I made my first enquiry. In my family, we never sought out “worldly” help for anything that smelled like psychology. Church and the Bible were all we needed.
Still, I took deep breaths, made my first phone call, and began seeing a psychotherapist twice a week. At my intake interview I never mentioned my difficult relationship with my father. Nonetheless, the woman interviewing me suggested I consider a meeting with my father. I was horrified.
Working with my therapist, I began from scratch. Not immediately, but after my first few years of therapy. This would be my meeting, structured and led by me. It wasn’t about ensuring a successful end or pleasing my parents. I lived in Pennsylvania; my parents lived in Georgia. My job was to initiate, plan, and produce an agenda for a meeting in Georgia. No dress rehearsal or second chance.
But first I had to clarify my boundaries. This changed everything, even before I began working on a meeting in Georgia. More about boundaries in a later post.
Thanks for stopping by. Praying for clarity, wisdom and courage in these troubled days.
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 17 October 2021
Photo found at unsplash.com
the mind is fragile. To see so many blatantly hammering away at the mental welfare of so many today, is the greatest of outrages, amen, have a great Sunday, it’s good to listen,thanks again.
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You’re welcome, and thanks for listening and commenting. Our situation today is one reason I’ve decided to say more about my past. It takes less than a heartbeat to damage another human being. Especially those with little power.
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amen, and men and those who are used to keeping their emotions hidden, are now being encouraged to share their worries, hopefully, this trend will continue, amen
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Thank you, bw. I pray it will be so.
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Good for you for stepping out of your comfort zone and getting help.
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Thank you, Betty. We do love our comfort zones. I pray all is well with you.
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It’s so sad that, even now, seeking help for depression or other issues is seen as a crime, with labels attached. You were so brave.
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Yes…we seem determined to blame and label victims rather than listen to them with open hearts. We seem to prefer diverting attention from reality. Or turning reality into a sign of sin, spiritual hogwash, or failure to pray it away. Thanks for your comment, kristina.
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[…] my 1993 meeting with my parents, we managed to stay in touch. It wasn’t easy at first, but slowly we began to see each other […]
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