The Chair

Over the years I have seen a number of therapists. I can honestly say that most have been a help to me in releasing some of the numbing pain that has built up inside me. The woman I see now has been my therapist for perhaps three years. She has been extremely supportive and never hesitates to prompt me to look deeper into who and what I really am and not the labels that was slapped on me as a child. On my first visit to her office, my pain was so great that I promptly dropped my head into my hands and wept as I told her the story of me. I was embarrassed by my tears but I returned because there was a comfort there in the chair.

I don't believe that we can live through the experiences we have had and never seek therapy or some sort of help to heal the injured body and spirit. We are like broken dolls in need of fixing by a caring hand.

There in the chair I understood that as broken as I was that I would mend. There in the chair I looked around and found a safe harbor where I could state the facts as they happened. I would not be questioned about their veracity, I would be taken at my word.

There in the chair.