Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.
Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

A long time ago, in a state of mind far away, I belived that all therapists were quacks. I would hear the occasional aquaintence who would say how their therapist would tell them to get over this or that they need to do this or put them on some drug. Quacks, the lot of them.

Then my wife asked me to join her in visiting a marriage counselor when we were seperated. I resisted at first because they were quacks, quacks I tell you. What the heck is some stranger going to do for me or tell me. They don’t even know me. Aww, such a silly, silly man.

I finally broke down and went and then broke down again. And again. Several more times, in fact, since the first appointment over three years ago. Heck, other than a few times, I usually went alone and adoption was the most popular topic of discussion. I touched on emotions I never knew I had and feelings I refused to feel. She never told me what I need to do but made suggestions for my consideration. She never offered me drugs to “cure” me instead recommending writing and talking. (Heck, this blog is a direct result of that so blame her.) She never blamed or judged me. There were times I wanted to flee and times I wanted to throw a chair or pillow. Times I wanted to disappear and times I wanted the whole world to hear me. I kept at it and found a place where I could look a little into the shadows of my soul and shine some light and become comfortable with it, with me. Then again, she had this VERY annoying habit of catching something I skirted around while I talked and then question me about it. Man, I hated that but needed it as well. Now I have a better understanding of what good therapy is. It’s not about diagnosing or curing, it’s about listening first and foremost and helping the person see themselves.

Therapy is like spellchecking for the soul.

After all, you wouldn’t spellcheck a really important document you wrote would you? More than likely, you would ask someone else.

Slowly though, it’s coming to an end. The last few meetings have wound up being more a general discussion of what is going on in my life. Nothing heart-wrenching or soul-shattering. No tears or pains in the chest. A while ago, I switched from every week to every two weeks, now I am switching to once a month with the plan of stopping it. Funny how far I have come. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that I am cured of all my foibles or have become the beacon to which all men should strive. However, I do have some of the tools to work in that direction though and the strength as well.

While I am happy for what I have accomplished, it’s sad too, like giving up a security blanket. At least it isn’t a closed door. I am still going to go occasionally and will always be able to go back if need be so it’s more like folding the security blanket into a drawer and hoping the moths don’t eat it.

Then again, they are all quacks right? :wacko:

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