"I am."
"I am responsible to talk to you. It's my responsibility to make sure I drive to our sessions every week no matter how hard it might be unless driving would put me or other drivers on the road in harms way. It's my responsibility to show up and talk to you about what's been going on that might have caused some of the depression to spiral so low and keep me there. It's my job to be rigorously honest with you so that you can use your spiritual gifts and the leadings the Holy Spirit is giving you to help me through this dark time."
If I don't do these things, I am wasting my time.
If I don't do these things, I am wasting my therapist's valuable time when she could be helping someone else.
If I don't do these things, I won't receive the help I need to stand up against the spiritual warfare I am under which could last longer than I know at the time.
Throughout the years of being in therapy (since I was 15), I've had to fight very hard battles just to get my voice out of my throat. Mix in the abuse secrets that were never to be discussed with anyone and you get a pretty messed up young lady. Have her pick up her first bottle of wine and become a closet drinker and now you've got the ingredients for an isolated, non-talkative, everything looks good on the outside behind that plastered smile and someday....there's going to be an avalanche.
When the avalanche happened (several avalanches, actually), I was not prepared for the emotional pain and scars that were left behind. Gaping wounds, permanent loss of the use of my heart, a devastated path of destruction left in its wake then complete silence in my soul - my dead soul - that would never again trust people or love people or seek out close friendships.
I stayed that way for many years.
Therapy helped a lot. I trusted my second therapist, Liz Morrison. I trusted my third therapist, Carol Davis-Serpas, I trusted my Life Coach, Jeff Weineke. I trusted my fourth therapist, Julie Tevenan. I trusted my inpatient therapists at Alexian Brothers. I trust my sixth therapist, Faith Gallup.
I alone am responsible for the quality of my recovery. No one else can do it for me.
I alone am the only one who can discern what I need. No one else is inside of me.
I alone can communicate what is working well and what is not. I need to speak up.
I alone determine what I can handle at any given time. I listen to suggestions - I stay open.
In the process of recovery, my therapist is my teammate. I joined her team because she has the training and experience to move my ball down the field and score a touchdown. I know I'm going to get tackled along the way. I know there might be some injuries. I know there will be some reviews of some plays. I know I might get some penalties and the ball will move backwards instead of forward.
But this I also know:
1. God drafted me as a #1 draft pick on His team.
2. God's training camp is full and complete, lacking nothing.
3. God assigned the right coach for this time in my life.
4. God is the only coach with a perfect record of all wins and no losses.
5. God's winning plan is not a secret.
6. God invites every player to be transformed into wholeness and holiness.
My therapist is not responsible for my actions - I am.
When I'm having self-destructive thoughts, it's not her fault nor her responsibility to fix them. It's my responsibility to call her or my psychiatrist or dial 911.
I am responsible for me.
No one else is.
And you know what?
I can do it!!
