Pass the Parcel

No, antidepressants won’t do much for this.

You need psychotherapy; complex needs.

You need a structured approach: someone you can go to regularly.

We’ll have to see what the consultant can offer on Thursday.

And so I am passed on. Very carefully – going into my history isn’t helpful. I’m fragile, might break. Keep the focus on current problems until I stop with someone with more expert parcel-opening skills.

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That means that only the top layer is ever peeled off, as I get passed from person to person. The rubbish stays underneath, festering, sometimes disturbed, but never examined. Voices telling me I am good-for-nothing, worthless, a waste-of-space shout louder between the wrappers. No one seems to want to get to the middle.

So the music has stopped with the consultant. She may, or may not, have a place for me in one of her emotion classes. She may or may not know about yesterday’s meeting. She may or may not share the other psychiatrist’s opinion. So much uncertainty.

Uncertainty is scary. And I still don’t sense God in prayer. But I am told He is certain. Certainly there, certainly loving me, certainly with my best interests at heart. So really, the music has stopped with Him. And I’m impatient to know when it will start again.

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One Response to Pass the Parcel

  1. Pingback: Labeled | Discovering Faith (and Doubt and Hope) in Christ

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