The One I Could Tell
When I was 24 and a half, I entered a day psychiatric program because I was having panic attacks.
When I left the program, this beautiful white nurse evaluated me with another doctor; we will call her Kelly.
When I spoke about why my panic attacks were happening, she listened. She cared.
I found out she was also a therapist with a PhD in psychology.
I was told I had to go into therapy; I had no choice. Since my mom is a doctor, she asked me who I wanted to see. She didn’t want to pick a therapist for me. She said I could see anyone I wanted. She had done therapy herself in her medical practice.
I told her I wanted to see Kelly. No one else, only Kelly.
My parents said that was fine, and they paid out of pocket for her and told me they would pay any price to make me feel better.
I would like to stop here and point out that I am blessed and privileged. I recognize that. I have a loving, supportive family and friends, and money. I am not unaware of how lucky I am. I try really hard not to take that for granted.
I went into Kelly’s office. It was so serene, with plants and scented candles and soft lighting. I admired Kelly. She was a 40-ish-year-old woman with long hair. She was a former hippie, I would later learn.
I stood in her office. She told me to sit down. I told her I didn’t want to sit down.
“I have to tell you something,” I said. I was shaking.
“OK, what do you want to tell me, Nina? You can tell me anything.” Her face was so kind.
“I’m not sure about this one.” I was still shaking.
Photo courtesy of Stefan Amer via Scopio
She looked into my eyes. She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. She looked like an angel. Not a supermodel, an angel.
“God is talking to me,” I said quietly and sat down.
“I see,” she said. “What is he saying?”
“It's complicated… he's saying that I’m here to do something. He’s saying that he loves me.”
“What does he want you to do?” She sat down and asked.
“I don’t know. He’s not being very clear about that.” I looked around the room. “I think he just entered my body right now.” I looked at her art; she always had really pretty paintings up in her office. There were greens and browns. It looked like an indoor forest. Everything matched.
“How do you feel?” She looked very serious. Her eyes were squinting and then wide open. She was thinking, or feeling. I don’t know which one.
“Overwhelmed. Peaceful. I don’t know,” I sighed.
“This must be very difficult for you,” she said. I wanted to hug her and let her hold me in her arms.
“He’s talking to me right now,” I said.
I think tears welled up in her eyes. “What is he saying?”
I don’t remember the rest, quite honestly.
Photo courtesy of Tatyana Sitores-Andres via Scopio
I know, I know, I’m not purposely making this a cliffhanger. I just can’t remember every word I said 25 years ago.
The next few times I went into her office, I felt the presence of god inside me.
She was a psychiatric nurse who worked in psych wards and a therapist with a PhD in psychology. I’m assuming she knew a little about people hearing voices. And again, I would like to point out that it was not an audible voice in my ears; it was a voice in my head.
She believed what was happening to me was real. We talked through it over the years.
On and off, I have had a 25-year relationship with this woman. She was the only therapist that I could discuss this spiritual stuff with.
I’ve had other therapists only because Kelly did not accept my insurance. I don’t know how to talk to other therapists about this, so we just discuss the regular stuff.
I didn't always have the money to go to Kelly. And I was tired of asking my father for money; he spent ALL of his money on his two daughters. At some point I had to let the man enjoy his retirement.
But I went to Kelly the year before my father became deathly ill.
It was 2019. A year later, we were in lockdown for COVID. The last time I saw Kelly regularly was in the before times.
I did see her briefly in 2022, when I was having a manic episode.
I think she helped set me up to survive taking care of my father for five years.
She is still one of the most beautiful souls and women I have ever known.
I love her.
I just texted her that I would like to go back into therapy with her.
nina
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