I read the following passage in Healing Into Life and Death by Stephen Levine. I can't stop thinking about it, and I'll explain why after you read it.
"A few years ago we were told by a physician a story of one of his patients who 'had tried her damnedest to get rid of cancer and couldn't.' Though she applied the latest techniques as best she could, the cancer spread to a point where it seemed she was about to die.
"Deciding to take a 'last vacation,' she went to the West Coast to spend some time on the beaches of Southern California. During the course of her visit she met a well-known healer who in two sessions of laying his hands on her apparently removed the pain and cancer. Two weeks later she killed herself.
"After the healing she told a friend that if it was that easy to heal she really must be a failure as a person. 'I really do deserve to die.' All the ideas she had about being responsible for her illness and having not previously 'chosen to live' left her feeling great despair and distrust in her own personal strength.
"Because of her belief system, being healed in this manner dis-empowered her. Someone forgot to tell her that all the work she had done until that time had worked to allow her to allow the healing in. The healer, thinking he was responsible for her healing instead of to her healing, perhaps kept too much credit for himself instead of sharing with her that she was already so prepared all it took was a little extra energy in the system to shift the tides."
These days, I've been feeling a bit like the cancer patient, although I'm not despondent, just somewhat shell-shocked. In returning to therapy, I've quickly figured out a lot of things I've been stewing over for years. Suddenly, I seem to have developed a clarity about bipolarity that I never had before. I see pattens of behavior I never understood before. And I can't believe I had to experience so much pain and suffering to figure all this out.
It's not that I believe my therapist has "healed me." Clearly, I am ready to "get it." What I can't believe is that it took me so long to get back into therapy, although I also know I may not have gotten it--even a few months ago.
Unlike the cancer patient, no one has taken away my pain and suffering. But...it feels like it's time to unload decades of hurt and anguish and move on. My question to myself is: How do I cast aside the residue of illness in my heart that is preventing me from shifting the tides?