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The One Who Thought I Was Mental

I seriously need to revise my friends list.  Some really need to be unfriended post haste.

I hate to admit it but they were right.  The first gentle suggestion was from my spiritual director (the priest that you go to regularly for confession).  He was seeing me through a crisis when I thought life as I knew it had ended and I was completely forgotten by God and needed to remind Him of my existence.

Knowing the stigma attached to mental health in any society, Fr. Antony (I do not think he would mind me naming him since there are low chances of his reading this blog and if he does, he will know I am praying for him.  Besides there are very many Fr. Antonys the world over) referred me to a regular doctor (a General Practitioner to the Medics) who took down my history and referred me to a counsellor.  I went to the counsellor for 3 sessions then pride got in the way and I stopped.  I mean I was jobless (which I have since discovered is not a disease to be feared or a sin to be ashamed of).

Those 3 sessions with that counsellor had me applying for the CEO position in Kisumu and Nairobi Water Companies.  I applied to be a lecturer at the myriad mushrooming Universities in the country at the time.  They gave me hope but I was too proud to keep it up.  Worried about what people would say. Spoiler alert, ‘People’ did not care, I was not even on their radar!  So my apprehension was for naught.

The second one was a friend in every sense of the word.  We argued, we laughed, we visited each other and we profited Safaricom with long phone calls.  Her approach was directly convoluted (oxymoron, I know).  She thought I should seek professional help but knew me well enough to not raise it directly.  So what did she do?  She prayed about it for ages (sent me back to the manufacturer since she was not able to help).  The next phone call we had, she went straight for the jugular.

But the blow barely glanced since my guardian angel had already put the idea in my mind that after ten years, it was time to renew my relationship with the counsellor.  Being a good friend, she accompanied me to my first session with a Psychiatrist, no less!  And stayed with me until the session was over.  Happy to report that I am well on my way to recovery.

I am shouting from the rooftops about my mental health story because my pride is in the right place, finally.  As my Psychologist says, “You are not mad for going to get help.  You are preventing yourself from getting to the mad point”  Now all I need is a lawyer I can call my own 🙂

Moral of the story: pray hard before suggesting to anyone they need to seek professional help and they will blog about you later in life.

Do I strike you as happy and well adjusted?  It is all thanks to my mental friends 🙂


PS. Fr. Antony looked forward to reading my books/writing.  That was over ten years ago.  He belongs to the list of friends “…Who Thought I Could Write”. too. God bless you Father

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