Sigh. It occurs to me every couple of days now that I need some professional help. Or rather, I need to say very personal things to a professional on a regular basis. Thoughts and feelings and memories and truths that hurt come to the surface and tell me they don't want to be inside anymore, they need to be on the outside. But I swallow them down and push them back and bury them for a little while because they have nowhere to go on the outside. Nowhere to go.

I have no money, no insurance, no time, and no capacity for trust. How do I walk into a Christian counseling center and tell them I need a therapist, but this therapist has to have an open mind and must promise not to start throwing scripture at me the moment I actually tell the truth for once? There's no way to guarantee that. I refuse to put myself into the hands of someone who won't be able to see me as a real human being with real problems that a few verses from the Bible can't fix. Therefore, no professional help for me.

Talk to friends? The friends I have who actually manage to remember I'm alive and don't have to be reminded to keep in contact with me (and you know who you are) know me very well and are very supportive listeners. We know some of each other's secrets and failings and shortcomings. We all love each other and enjoy being good friends. These are important relationships that I am grateful for and will cherish forever. But can I tell them the truth about those pains and thoughts that need to get out of my head? Of course not.

Lies by omission. I will be lying by omission to many people that I love for the rest of my life. It would be nice to have a therapist who believes in Jesus, but who also understands the harsh realities of the human condition and won't judge me when I try to be honest. I need to talk about dark, unpleasant, unhappy, life-ruining things, but doing so is just not possible. I'm tempted at this point to get a non-Christian therapist because at least then I'd have a better chance of getting someone who won't recoil and throw a Bible at me when I say things that I really can't bury forever.

So, I'll just continue on this way. I honestly don't know who I'm going to be in five, ten, fifteen years. If I'm this screwed up now, it could be exponentially worse in the future. Who knows?

Sigh. Nowhere to go.