I have suffered with depression my entire life. I guess I was born with it. A chemical imbalance. I remember being 18 years old getting the shuttle to the Counseling Center just off the campus of the University of New Orleans. The shuttle was actually a courtesy police offer. Picture it, being dropped off to a therapist in a cop car. It is funny to think about now, however, it was my norm at that time. I don’t remember the counselor’s name. What I do remember is the way that she made me feel. Heard. She listened and genuinely cared about my mental health. I appreciate that.

Since then, counseling has been a constant in my life. I have gone months in between sessions. I always find my way back. My current counselor, Hope, is a staple to my life. I need her.

We met in 2017. I found her through my employer’s Employee Assistance Program (EAP). My search criteria was Black, female, and not old looking or acting. I won with Hope. Plus, I was able to get 6 sessions for free at a time. Every 6 sessions I would call my EAP with a new life issue and they would renew my sessions. Through my different job changes I have always checked to see if she was a part of the EAP program and she would be. More free sessions. Unfortunately, she is not a part of my current company’s EAP so now after all of these years I finally have to actually pay. It’s $25 per session. I have great insurance. It is always nice to get Hope’s input on my life. She gives me little assignments from time to time. My “The Shoulds” post was directly inspired by her. In our last session, I was able to come to a revelation. Eyes are now wide open.

I’ve been intensely angry with my daddy. It has been some time. Maybe two years. I have treated him differently. For the last 39 years of my life I played the role of best friend to my dad. He had his faults for sure, but I gave him grace. He basically could do no wrong in my eyes. We would talk almost daily and there would be a lot of laughs. He’s an unintentionally hilarious person. I would hear both sides of the arguments between him and my mom and always take my dad’s side. He did no wrong.

One day it all changed. I started noticing his faults. Not new faults, the same ones that he had all along that I steadily gave grace to. One day I no longer was on his side. One day I started remembering the times in my life that he failed as a my daddy. I started to see him as a man. A flawed man. A flawed husband. My daddy hadn’t changed. My daddy did not do anything to me that would justify how I treated him. But I did. I exiled him from my life. I stopped calling to check in on him. I no longer took his side. My daddy was no longer the example of manhood that I had created in my mind for 39 years. But let’s be 100% clear. He has never done anything to me that made the way I treated him fair or even okay. Every two weeks I would tell Hope some silly thing he did 30 years ago. Something that I nearly forgot. Something that did not matter to me at the time. Something basically insignificant. To give an example, I played softball when I was a kid. Every summer my mom would sign me up for the YMCA’s softball league. I have never been an athlete, or athletic or skilled at any sport. My dad would bring me to my weekly softball games and he would sit in his car in the parking lot while I played the game (or sat the bench). I would get my snack once the game was over and then head back to the car and we would go home. We would talk about the game. I’d eat my snack. Just as content as I could be.

Now, 30+ years later I am sitting on the virtual couch telling Hope that my dad would sit in the car instead of watching my game as if it is now an excuse for the way I have completely exiled him. It is not an excuse. It did not bother me then. Why does it now?

My mom and I have gotten extremely close these last few years. My mom is great. She is literally Super Woman able to accomplish all tasks put in her to-do bucket. She sews entire weddings, she reupholsters sofas in her spare time, she has retired twice from two different careers, she takes care of my daddy in every capacity and she is the rock of her siblings and her immediate family. The older I am I can see now that my mom takes care of everything and everyone….. but herself. She doesn’t have an outlet and no friends to confide in when her husband (my dad) does something stupid or selfish. Because of that, she confides in me. I am her friend. She involves me in her side of the marriage in a way you would include your counselor. I am not my mom’s counselor. I am her youngest daughter.

I have been added in as the third wheel of their marriage. I embraced my mom’s disappointment, frustration, and disgust of my dad as if it is my own. He ain’t my husband. He is my father. I shouldn’t know these things. I shouldn’t hold the things that he does to her against him. He is not my husband. She chose to marry him, not me. She said, “I do,” 49 years ago and she chooses to stay with him everyday. As my father he has done everything in his power to be the dad that he did not have for me. Honestly, he contributed to me being a spoiled brat at the age of 40. He has his flaws as a husband, not a daddy.

Hope opened my eyes to that fact. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I cannot be mad at him. I think I am going to call him right now and laugh about something. I need a laugh after this revelation.

XOXO

Lesson: Stop fighting my mom’s battles.

Question: What have you learned in counseling?