«Fr. Mike, can you come to the office? There’s a mother here with her daughter, saying she doesn’t know where else to go. She’s really upset,» read the message I received from the parish secretary.
I crossed the rectory to reach the office and found a woman sitting, clearly shaken, “I’m sorry Father, I didn’t know where else to go. Please help her! Tell her God loves her!” I asked her to breathe and to explain to me the situation.
Her 20-year-old daughter “Isabel” had been released the day before from the mental health hospital after having been there a month. She had been admitted after she had made several attempts on taking her life. She was prescribed a long list of strong medication. That same morning, they had gone to a clinic to make follow up appointments. She was able to make a short appointment with a counselor but would not be able to see a psychiatrist for at least three months.
Isabel didn’t want to be released from the hospital in the first place, and now her fears had been confirmed: it would be just too hard to get by outside of the safety of the hospital. Whatever comments she had made to her mother and father (who was waiting with Isabel in the car), lead to them coming to the parish out of despair per a neighbor’s suggestion.
“Of course, yes, I’ll speak with her, if she’d like to talk to me,” I replied. I then explained that in fact we, as a parish (through the CSP) offer free psychological services. “Sharoll, one of the psychologists, is here today. I think it would be good for Isabel to talk to her, too.”
It turned out that the mother had no idea that we offered psychological services. And when I said that considering the circumstances, Isabel could see Sharoll when she finished with her current appointment, the mother’s tone changed to something between shock and relief. “I can’t believe it. This must be God’s will. I never imagined that she’d be able to talk to a priest and a psychologist!”
We agreed that Isabel would come in to speak with me until Sharoll was available. Her mother brought her in, and it was instantly clear that Isabel was not well. She was wrapped up more than was necessary for the afternoon chill. Between her hoodie and facemask, I could just make out her exhausted eyes as they refused to look up. She would only speak with me if she her mother came, too.
As we sat down, Isabel made clear that it was her mother’s idea to speak with me. She personally figured it was too late. Perhaps it was this sense of nothing to lose that made her willing to be so open right away. She explained that she wasn’t comfortable being alone with men because she had been abused at age four (her parents found out years after it had happened). She described herself as having been “normal,” and having had friends, being happy, and even having started college. But the pandemic led to her being alone so much, and she began to remember things from her past, and felt that the “darkness” was just too heavy. “I’ve tried to get out from it, but it’s no use. I’m done. I just feel bad about how upset I am making my parents, and how sad it will make them…” With incredible strength, Isabel’s mother let her daughter speak.
Sharoll finished with her appointment and came to get Isabel. I spent some more time speaking with her mother, and then she went outside to wait with her husband for their daughter.
When I think of Isabel´s mother reaching out in despair for help, for some sign of hope, it recalls for me the woman with the “hemorrhage” in the synoptic Gospels. She had been sick and suffering for twelve years: Luke describes her had not been able to be healed by “anyone,” (Lk 8:43). Mark makes it sound even worse, saying she “suffered much under many physicians,” leaving her broke and worse off than before (Mk 5:26). She is often even depicted on the ground, desperately reaching out to touch Jesus´ garment. Similarly, Isabel´s mother may have thought: If I only can get her to the church, she will be made well.
After beginning the counseling program, we have become more aware of the despair that many people face with regards to their own mental health, or that of a loved one. Like in many parts of the world, access to mental health care Bogotá it is extremely limited, especially for our low-income families. Even those who have access, it can be a challenge: Esteban, a young adult who regularly sees Sharoll, explained to me that he had to wait for months between appointments, and they would be for 15 minutes each and not with the same counselor. The three month wait for somone like Isabel to see the psychiatrist is typical, even as a patient recently released from the psychiatric hospital.
This is precisely why we, as the Community of Saint Paul, began offering these services in 2020, and the expanded them at the beginning of 2021. For the majority it is the first time they are able to seek and receive mental health support. Like the woman in the Gospels, and Isabel and her mother, they reach out and find hope.
You may be wondering about Isabel. I’m happy to say she looks nothing like what she did those months ago. As Sharoll says “it’s day and night.” Their regular sessions together helped Isabel get by until she was finally able to see the psychiatrist, and a psychologist through the public system whom she is now able to see with some regularity. Isabel is now so well that she only sees Sharoll to stop by and say hello, and chat about her love of animals and going back to school.
If you’d like to know more details about our counseling program, you can see our video at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3m2t1-M-28s
