I came out of the counsellor 's room at the doctor's surgery walking on air. I felt like a new woman. I shall remember that feeling for as long as I live. Tissues were used, it had been difficult to get the words out, but out they had come, like an avalanche. I didn't know whether what I was saying was proper, but I said it anyway.
The counsellor had looked at me in an empathetic way, unblinking, and said something to the effect that I had been very brave. I was amazed. Bravery hadn't come into it, I didn't think. I had not gone in to that room expressly to discuss an issue harking back to when I was seven, and a 14 year old had sexually abused my twin sister and me, in turn, in the windowless bathroom of our apartment, whilst my 10 year old brother held guard by the door. I really hadn't. But there was something about the counsellor that I felt I could trust, as I hadn't trusted anyone since that shameful, abhorrent event, that had preyed on my mind for over three decades. I had never discussed it, but it had had a profound and devastating effect on my entire life. It had rocked my confidence and I know for a fact that I was never the same after that day. I lived daily with shame.
To return to the counselling session and the two years of weekly sessions with the woman who represented for me my saviour. I gradually began to rebuild my identity, my sense of "me "as a valid and lovable person, and to put aside "that event". Some may think this an exaggeration. I can only speak for myself when I say that I saw that the lifting of the veil, the unburdening of the soul on that and subsequent days and months was like being reborn with power. Power to confront evil, bullying, abuse. I had previously not felt I had that permission. It was, and still is, exhilarating. Shame leads you down dark alleys, and into the pit of depression. To be free of it is simply wonderful.
A Moodscope member.
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