I felt her comforting as she sat there patiently, while I wept on her couch. When my sobs finally rested in my throat, she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees and looked up at me. “Laura, can I draw you something? I want to show you how this looks.” She got up from her chair and picked up a green Sharpie and walked toward the door. “Oh cool.” I said as she stood by the white easel paper that hung on her door. “So, here is your family.” She drew a big circle on the page. “Okay.” “Now.” She picked up the red Sharpie and drew two circles at the top of the green one. “This is your mom and dad.” She turned and looked at me and I nodded. “Here—“ She picked up the blue Sharpie and pointed it in the air, then turned to draw some more. “Are—“ she drew two circles, “the rest of you.” Then she drew the last one, to make three and turned toward me. I shook my head. “But—but I have three sisters and you only have three circles there. You need one more.” She nodded and pointed her finger at me. “Wait,” she softly spoke and yet again turned to the board where she drew one more circle with a black Sharpie, way at the bottom of the circle. “This, Laura, is you.” I turned my head toward my left shoulder, confused. “Your mom and dad and siblings are all together right here, and you are way down here.” “Okay?” “See, you have been searching for what is wrong with you. But what you haven’t realized is it’s always the one that others in the dysfunction point to as the issue, when really the one they blame the dysfunction on, is really the healthy one. See, you are the scapegoat. It’s easy to blame you, because you are not like them. You got away from the dysfunction. And you say you never felt part of them, and that is why. You are the healthy one, and they are not.” “Ah! That makes sense now!” The tension slowly exhaled from my body. “The anxiety attacks that you have are from post traumatic stress disorder.” I shook my head. “And you keep thinking that something is wrong with you, but really, you are the healthy one. You had a lot of trauma in your life and there is nothing—nothing wrong with you.” She sat back down. “Does that make sense to you?” “Wow, you know it really does. I mean, this whole time I have been trying to figure out what is wrong with me. I’ve been trying to fix myself and I kept running into road blocks.” “Well, that is why sweetie. There is nothing wrong with you. You got away from them. From the dysfunction." Author Laura Henry
Posted on: Thu, 08 Aug 2013 01:25:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015