Okay, it wasn't like that at all.
I was very relieved to finally get to Confession after two and a half years, staying away from church entirely (but for one funeral Mass) since the outbreak of Chinese Death Virus.
I got there early on Saturday, as I hoped to have some time to talk with the priest about something weighing on my mind, but by the time he arrived there was a long line behind me. So I stuck to the sin part of the situation and he ignored my hints at the larger issue. That's how it goes in the Reconciliation Room; you're not there to gossip or be psychoanalyzed or complain about your family, you're there to confess your own sins and leave cleaner and stronger, ready to start the fight again. A priest is always willing to discuss things in more depth, but not in the Confessional.
Frankly, though, I've found that even counselors don't want to listen to me. They seize on what they see as the issue and don't listen any further. Well, it's been a long time since I went to one. Maybe I should try to get my head shrunk again.
3 comments:
Finding a good counselor is like panning for gold. You go through a lot of silt before you get a gold nugget. If they can't respond to your concerns like you're the first person to mention the issue, time to move on.
Sometimes your best bet is a bartender or an old friend. Someone who at least pretends to hear you.
Dogs can be good listeners, and their counsel, such as it is, is always from the heart.
Cats, um, not so much.
Old saying in DC swamps "If you want a friend, get a dog" because everyone knows you can't trust anyone in politics.
Sometimes your best bet is a bartender or an old friend.
Well said, Mongo.
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