I love support groups.
As a counselor, of course, I do believe in the value of sitting with a professional and seeking input and guidance. I’ve had the good fortune to see a number of excellent counselors in my life (including my current one), and I certainly try to be that person for my own patients.
The second support group I ran was for people diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
(The first was a social anxiety support group, way back when I was an intern. It was not my idea. No, this is not a setup for a joke, and no, the group did not last long.)
In the bipolar disorder support group, I got to witness and experience magic. It was not uncommon for new people to say they’d never met another person with bipolar disorder. They supported each other without judgment. I ran those groups for several years.
With Parents Living After Child Estrangement, I get the sort of support I personally need to cope with this new life. Some people in our groups are struggling, and being among peers gives them a soft place to land. Others have made progress, and they come to a meeting to support others. When you’ve had the worst emotional distress of your life, interacting with another parent who has made progress is invaluable.
It’s common for a participant to share something that shines new light on this issue, or perhaps gives other members a “lightbulb moment.” It’s validating to simply find that you’re not alone as you go through this. Some members share valuable information and resources.
Groups develop over time, and they can have distinct personalities of their own. In a counseling session, I’m the person in the only other chair. In group, we have a virtual roomful of other people who are willing to provide support. Experience has taught me to trust a group, and that when someone is in need, other members will make an effort to connect. And after all these years, I’m still learning, still having new and unique experiences as moderator.
Sometimes a group will save the moderator, rhetorically speaking. Case in point: A new member was upset, clearly struggling. She was not mindful of the camera, and her pressured speech was difficult for me to hear. I think I was only getting about ¾ of what she was saying. There I was missing significant pieces of what she was sharing, even as she clearly needed support. Without missing a beat, other members spoke up, addressing what she’d said and showing empathy, sympathy, and support. I’d felt handcuffed by my limitations in that moment, but the group came to her aid and mine. It was a blessing to witness.
