Tell the therapist to stand for waffle with his patients and then we shall gauge his expertise with their sanity! Isn't this the reality of the madhouse we have assumed to know? People think counseling is just the first knock to a mental penitentiary but don't worry,l will tell you the truth today and hopefully you are not broken too! You see the first question they ask is who are you and its usually the hardest. If you say you are John ,you are lying and if you show them your ID you are breaking the law but if you tell them that you a survivor then they begin to frigid with excitement for the pain you are about to tell them about yourself! "I am a survivor, l am a survivor ",they made me fill in a 96 page counter book,with that hallucinating nonsense .It didn't work on me but atleast they tried to help us. Sometimes the problem isn't attitude or expertise of the professional but the severity and context of the harm itself!
It is usually impossible to make someone feel better about something you have never heard about or expierienced yourself and this is why therapy was a waste of time to most of us! Don't get me wrong,we talked about how we felt,cried about it and finished the freely donated tissue papers with our free flowing tears but when the session ended and the reality set in, we were still going to be alone! Pastors came from various churches throughout the world and they tried to empower us and guide us to a path of peace and spiritual obliviousness but we almost crucified them with our lamentations and calamities of why this had happened to us? You see dear friend,it's usually easy to tell someone that Jesus died for your sins and that everything no matter how tragic is going to be alright if you believe in Him but grief is repressive and life is regressive. So when we encourage those we deem afflicted,please make sure you tell them of how and why He did it because the pain becomes better if you know!
Everyone was sick mentally, how could we not be? No one in the world had ever saw what we saw and lived a normal life after! People were speaking to themselves and laughing to their own jokes as if they were talking to some imaginary crowd we didn't see! I remember trying to draw a lion one day at the tents, but l failed as l drew a disabled alien species. However the ploy wasn't in me failing or trying,it was that l felt a strangely peaceful sensation as if l was in the presence of my second born who loved art when l did it! It's crazy l know but we only get to bring back those we lost and love in our dreams and minds and every moment counts. l imagine their cries sometimes and those are the days l think of a rope! You see l go to a very dark place when that happens, a zone where breathing and life mutually begin in a leash and if you bark long enough, the collar breaks and the freedom consumes you! However l never get to end of that dream as my late wife always wakes me up with a kiss and smile before l am trapped in that world!
We spent months and months on counseling until we began to counsel each other in village groups! Each village had a male and female lead counselor that were chosen from the victims by the victims and donors after they had done training! In my village, they chose me because they assumed that a teacher is best placed to understand, advise and counsel people than an engineer for example! It was all done on merit and l had no choice but to accept the mantle as l assumed office and began my duties. However the damage was broad and intense than anticipated. You see, there were people that now dwelled on top of mountains because of the cyclone. Donors had significantly tried their best to assist but housing and land were still over budding isues! This meant that people who were waiting for donor funded tents or any form of assistance had to seek refuge and grasp to the very essence of their lives with whatever was available to them in the meantime and this meant informal plastic houses and caves! It was bad to a point that some stayed in sixes in a single tent whilst they awaited for theirs.