The other day I was talking with a patient I have known for fifteen years. I don’t see her often. She told me once she felt I was a good check-in four or five times a year to make sure she’s not “crazy”. I told her we all have a little crazy in us, otherwise we’d die of boredom. We laugh a lot in our time together now and I feel sometimes like I’m visiting a good friend. I’ve told her she really doesn’t need to see me anymore. She insists she wants to because she trusts I will talk honestly with her. When her doctor referred her fifteen years ago he said he’d never seen a woman in such despair.
Our first visit I learned her husband had died eight months earlier somewhere in Afghanistan, or Syria, or Iran…somewhere in the Middle-East…killed by someone he didn’t know and had never seen before. Killed on a hot, dusty, solid rock mountain on the other side of the world.. Her husband was the first and last person she trusted. My first words to her were “You look like you are in a lot of pain.” For two hours I listened to her explain her broken heart and spirit. She sobbed at times and she would wipe her face and smear her tears with her runny nose and mascara. She told me she had grown up in various foster homes. Her mother died in a car accident when she was two. Her father was so shattered by the loss of his wife he drank himself into a stupor every night and had no idea how to raise a 2-year-old baby girl. They had no other family to help him. Eventually he lost his job and killed himself on the same day she turned eight. She was playing outside when he put the gun to his head. She heard the noise and was too afraid to go back into the house. Eventually, when darkness came to chill the air, she ran to a neighbor’s house. They called 911 and my friend was taken into the foster care system that night.
As you can imagine, she had a very lonely and chilly childhood. She said she turned her feelings off when she became aware at around five years old that she was too much for her father. Says she knew he killed himself because she cried too much and was too emotional. She eventually aged out of the system at 18, got a job and an apartment and went on with her lonely existence. She had some money from an inheritance from her father and social security from her mother. She worked as a secretary and took night classes and eventually became an elementary school teacher. She told me she walked through most of her early life rigid with grief. She kept to herself as much as possible. Sometimes the kids in her class would make her laugh or smile, but not very often. She lived a quiet life.
Then, He walked into her life in the middle of an educational psychology class. The class was half over. Every student was required to give a presentation relating to educational psychology. Her topic was “The Developmental Needs of an Infant or Toddler”. She walked to the front of the class and began her presentation. Somewhere in the middle she claimed that “it is essential to the very existence of the child that her relational needs be met by the adults in her life”. He raised his hand and asked, “Why? What happens if the child’s basic relational needs aren’t met?”She said he had the least aggressive manner of speaking and she stumbled and froze and could not answer for what seemed like hours. Then she blurted out, “The children will never learn to trust.” “Never?” he asked. “Never.” she answered. She then left the classroom, mid-speech. She collapsed on a cold, stone bench behind the classroom, put her face in her hands and cried so hard she couldn’t breathe. When he asked that question ,that day in class, she heard her voice for the first time reply “Never” and knew it was she and it was true.
But this isn’t a romance novel. It’s about how we, as individuals are put on this earth to make and learn from relationships. And it is never too late! Our relationships are the way we learn to love and trust ourselves… and love and trust others. We are hurt in relationships. Our hearts are broken. We argue and learn how to resolve differences. We learn to listen-really listen to others. We learn about fairness and anger and what to do with it. We learn how to feel the feelings and move on when we need to move on. We learn love, disappointment, laughter and sorrow in relationships. And Oh so much more!
My friend is fine. She has learned how cruel the world can be and how wonderful. She has never re-married, but she has loved and been loved by many wonderful people. She has worked very hard so that today she can feel all of her feelings. She still teaches, and loves her children. She has wonderful friends and swears life has given her more than it has taken. And, she has learned to trust her instincts and experiences enough to know when to let go. She trusts and loves herself. #ME TOO.