My Therapist Says….

by irenedavid

I see a therapist who is a Christian twice a week by myself and my husband and I also go together. I have some major issues. Well, really only two–
my inability to believe God really does love me unconditionally and that He truly forgives me for everything. Now, the reasons behind why I have so much trouble with those two issues are numerous and complex.
My therapist sorta laid it on the line today and told me I had to find a way to get those reasons out in the open or I could look forward to a long time of therapy.
Here’s the problem: My parents are elderly. They don’t need heartache at this point in their lives (well, certainly not any more than my husband and I have dished out to them.) So telling them that my oldest brother sexually abused me and that my other older brother and older sister mentally, physically and emotionally abused me is just more than I can do at this point in my life. I don’t feel valuable; never really have. My childhood wounds colored the way I perceived how others saw me.
I know a lot of folks would just say “get over it!” right here. I really wish it were that simple. And the reality is that I’ve run after this rabbit so many times in my head that I’m not sure anymore if I’m being honest with myself about whether or not I can get over it. So after my therapist told me today to get it out in the open, I figured I would start here. I’m anonymous here, so I can say these things.
I was abused by people who were supposed to love me. The last time I can remember being “innocent” and unafraid was when I was five years old. I honestly don’t think my parents knew what was going on, but they should have had some idea. I don’t want to know if my parents suspected something and just didn’t want to know the truth. I don’t want to know if my parents would believe me if I told them now. The abuse has always said to me that I was not valuable; I don’t need a big, old rubber stamp that says that’s true if my parents knew or don’t believe it happened.
Yes, I know it shouldn’t say anything about me–it should say something about what was wrong with others who abused me or didn’t prevent the abuse. But that’s the problem–you live with the voices saying something is wrong with you because people who were supposed to love you didn’t and you believe it for a long, long time. And it affects every relationship you have in your life, even, or maybe especially, the one with God.
So now I am faced with the wrestling every single day, sometimes several times a day, of whether or not I can trust God not to punch me in the stomach or look at me like I’m worthless.
It makes forgiveness a tough nut to crack. What is forgiveness? Really; think about it. I sure as heck don’t know how to define it in these circumstances.
Enough of this. I’ve now publicly disclosed my abuse. Maybe someday, I’ll be able to actually help someone with my story. Until then, I’m praying God will grant me enough faith to trust Him implicitly.