Maybe You Should Talk to Somebody

The journey that is life can turn tough sometimes. Talking it out can help, they say. And a good person to talk to is your pastor, rabbi, or priest. (And when they all go into a bar it’s usually pretty funny.) Anyway, talking to a spiritual leader can be helpful. UNLESS you happen to be married to said spiritual leader, and the said spiritual leader is one of the things you need to talk about. 

Dilemma.

So I found a counseling center and ended up seeing two different counselors. 

I told the first counselor I was overwhelmed and stressed out by all aspects of my life. I didn’t have any relief; any peace; any solace. Her advice: “You’ll have to give up something.” 

Which one do you suggest? I thought. My home, my job, my husband, my kids, my dog? 

In an attempt to try and connect, I guess, she told me all about the 14 years of taking care of her mother. And how that made her feel. And how she didn’t have any help. And how stressed out she was about her life. And how disappointed she was that her siblings weren’t helping. 

This isn’t how counseling works. Was that even allowed? I’m supposed to be telling her about my stuff. Not the other way around. I was thinking about billing her.

To relieve my stress, she suggested I start a book club. She told me her sister has a Bible study and maybe I could join that. I told her those weren’t exactly something I could do right now seeing as I had a home, job, husband, and a dog that all needed my undivided attention. 

She looked at me and said, “Well, everything I suggest you aren’t interested in.” She told me she didn’t think we’d need to meet anymore and she’d send some information on how to combat loneliness. I suddenly realized that as I was rejecting her as a counselor, she was rejecting me! 

I tried a second counselor. During our first session he asked if I prayed. I told him yes. He asked, “Do you pray out loud?”

“No. Not as a rule.”

Abruptly he asked, “Why not?”

“Well, I can pray out loud. You know, before meals and if someone asks for me to pray for them.”

“During this week say your prayers for you out loud. Things happen when you verbalize your payers.”

I’ll do that, and let you know.

Later he seemed put out because I couldn’t answer a question about what successful people do. “Successful people make a list of goals and then thaaaaaaay . . .” 

Organize them?” 

“No, thaaaaaaay” <<making circles toward me with his hand>> “Thaaaaaaay . . . “

Try to follow them? 

“Well, yes, but no.” <<A little irritated>> “They . . .” 

<Blank stare. Now I’m having flashbacks to 5th grade and the sinking feeling when Mrs. What’s-her-name asked me a question out loud in class that I didn’t know the answer to and all eyes were on me. Including her cold stare.>>

“Successful people verbalize their goals. They ver-ba-lize them,” he said (leaving out, “You idiot.”)

If I followed his advice there’s going to be a lot of me praying out loud, saying things out loud, talking to myself, which could lead to people staring and hoping I was getting some sort of help–some sort of counseling. 

Vicious little circle.

At the next session I was in the surreal waiting area where nobody looks directly at anyone else. All pretending they don’t have bad enough problems to be there–the other people in their lives have problems. 

My counselor greeted me, and he was 15 minutes late. 

During the session, he suddenly looked at his watch and said he was late for a staff meeting. The session abruptly ended.

My counselor was 15 minutes late, and he ended the session at the exact same time as the first session. Wait. I thought. I was due an additional 15 minutes. He owed me another 15 minutes! 

But, being oh so polite, I didn’t ver-ba-lize my thoughts. 

When I left his office and went downstairs I smelled food. A potluck! I asked a woman if they were celebrating a birthday or something. She said the food was for their weekly staff meetings. Ok. I get it. They have potluck staff meetings, which can, apparently distract counselors and tempt them to stop counseling.