An odd thing happened to me yesterday. I was tagged in a very old photo on Facebook. Nothing particularly odd in that on it's own. What was odd was seeing the face of someone from my past who had power over me. His tag was quite simple-God! It was a tag given by others and not a name I had ever associated with him.
There is another man from my more recent past who I called god. God at the time and god in my book. He was a man with power over me. And power can be a very destructive thing.
It is a terrible thing to feel powerless. Throughout the first few years of my illness I felt utterly powerless. Powerless in the face of severe mental illness and powerless at the treatment meted out to me. Decisions were made for me and I was expected to comply.
Compliance is a word I hear often from mental health professionals. But have they ever asked themselves the question what if I am wrong? Subsequent events in my life proved conclusively that so many people in my case got it wrong. Yet no one has ever admitted they got it wrong!
I'm treated differently now, I am part of the club so to speak; I am a professional. But I have little power. That feels safer than wielding influence where I might get it wrong.
I wonder of either of the two gods who form such a big part of story ever wonder if they got it wrong. Somehow I doubt it.
I Heard a Voice.
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