I didn't know her name, only that she was dysregulated and beginning to make a scene in the overcrowded milieu. I asked if she wanted to go outside for a few minutes and through her tears she nodded, yes. I will call her Bethany.
Bethany was 15 years old and had been admitted for substance abuse, anxiety, depression, and PTSD. She had multiple sexual relationships with men quite a bit older than her and putting it mildly, some of those men were not nice. As we sat outside, I let her cry and talk. As my maternal instincts kicked in, I really wanted to hug her but I refrained and simply listened. She sobbed and at times could hardly talk. It took great effort to get her to a point where she could breathe and become more regulated. I heard all about the hatred for her mom, how controlling she was, what one man did to her and how she was currently in a relationship with another older man whom she missed. It is difficult to know that you have maybe a 10-minute window with someone and in that 10 minutes you feel desperate to make some kind of difference. All I can say is how grateful I am for the Holy Spirit who has given me words I couldn't have come up with myself and extra time that humanly wasn't there. Time and again. That afternoon was no different.
As we sifted through what appeared on the surface as a crisis, we got a little more to the heart of things. She was craving drugs badly. She felt cut off from her friends, and abandoned and unloved by her mom. She missed the man she was in a relationship with and the temporary facade of comfort he gave her. She was smart with enough insight to recognize the dysfunction of the relationship but it didn't matter. She wanted what it could provide. Every go-to she had gathered for herself in order to cope with pain, was gone and ripped away. She was crawling out of her skin. She was alone in a boat out to sea with no anchor. My heart broke for her as we made eye contact. What a precious girl.
In order to temporarily distract her and get her to calm down, I asked what her dreams were for after high school. She told me she wanted to be a counselor. I commended her for that and encouraged her to pursue those dreams. I explained in a factual way since emotion was already high, all the things she was going without in order to be in treatment at the age of 15. I validated her cravings AND yearnings of the heart. She kept looking at me with silent tears. I thought to myself that what she was carrying would be a lot for an adult woman, but for a 15-year-old girl? Seriously, my heart hurt. I looked at her and with conviction told her that this was as hard as it would ever get. Of course, I could not know what her future would hold and I knew that circumstances could indeed get worse. But, I wasn't talking about circumstances. I was talking about the condition of her heart and mind and the utter brokenness being felt there. She needed the validation of that. She needed to know that someone else was sitting in that condition WITH her. "Yes, sweet girl, this HURTS." I explained that she would be able to move through this pain with the cravings and the longings for comfort. I told her that their shout level would lessen in her head and that she would not keel over and die. I commended her for her bravery and courage to get help at the age of 15 and told her how much better than at the age of 30, 50, or 75 (though it's NEVER, EVER too late). I told her that she would be a wonderful counselor and that someday she would be sitting on a bench with another 15-year-old sharing her story. Our time was abruptly interrupted as we had to get on to the next group. I never worked with her again but I remembered her name and saw her a few times after that. I always went out of my way to smile and say hello and do a quick check in. She told me she was feeling much better and was in fact discharging soon.
I do not know what will come of Bethany. I pray that some kind of seed of hope was planted and that she will recall her time on the bench with "that lady at TK" in years to come.
I am often struck about how fragile we are as human beings. All it can take is feeling ignored, being cheated out of something, or having someone give us a wrong look to ruin a whole day and much more. We can trip and fall and sustain a terrible injury. Life can end in a breath. Yet, on the other hand, we are capable of experiencing and overcoming immense pain and hardship against every odd. We may wither but bloom again. We can change for the good. We can heal.
May we be people who give moments to those who need them and may we have the courage to accept the moments others give us when we need them. God is actively present in both. He created us for connection.
"May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had." Romans 15:5
Dee M. Kostelyk
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