The Authority...

Initially I blamed myself for Professioinal's verbal and psychological harms toward me.
As is my manner, I gave him the benefit of the doubt, including when he blatantly lied to me; after all he is human and makes errors.

And he was the authority in the field of emotional wellness.

His cognitive-based, task-centered, client-focused therapy approach was about as objective as one can get in the mental health field.
He had written many excellent articles on spiritual and emotional abuse, on recovery, on re-discovery.
He'd been quoted, interviewed, referred to multiple times by people in his specialized field.
He had years of counseling experience with, what he claimed, thousands of people.
He had the knowledge.
He had the schooling.
He had the official License.

In our counseling sessions, his tone of voice, his words, his ideas all conveyed balance and understanding.
Surely, his expertise about me outweighed my expertise about myself.

Yet, in a culminating instant, I became a traitor.

According to Professional's words...
I was the dishonest one.
I was the one who destroyed our friendship.
I was the one who had no compassion toward Professional's dilemma.
I was the one who was unable to carry on an intelligent dialog.
I was the one who alleged hidden motives toward Professional.
I was the one disrespecting boundaries.
I was the one who betrayed him.
I was not trustworthy on any level.

Professional's words were daggers plunged into my heart and then twisted - back and forth, back and forth.

Yes, I was the one to blame.
Yes, it was my fault.

I became non-worthy of communication.
Professional wanted nothing to do with someone so despicable and untrustworthy as I.
Neither could I any longer participate in the support group where I'd been a founding member, and I couldn't even tell the other members why.

I was like garbage, a throw-away.
Not even worthy of recycling.

A vortex opened wide and tried to suck me in and swallow me.
Had I chosen to not speak up, I may have become digestive stew.

******
Daggers
(A poem written on August 2, 2010)

Had a hard day today
A friendship died
And I'm very confused as to why or how

I endeavored to open the door
To talk, to understand
But the door was shut with my face in it

It hurt

Apparently I am responsible for the death
The friend told me
"You destroyed our friendship"

And I don't even know how I committed the murder

I never want to burden a friend
With the responsibility that they need to defend me
I don't make a good defense barrier

Maybe that means I am a rotten friend
Maybe I can't be trusted
And now my heart wonders

Can it trust itself again


08/02/10

..I am stunned by it all. I feel raw and numb at the same time. It will take some time to not shake inside. That shake that comes when I feel I can't trust myself.

****

(Daggers, which includes some added context, was initially posted on Parchment Anthology in August, 2010.)