Counselling and fifty days.

Last year, somebody told me that counselling was like picking at a scab so it can never heal. I couldn’t disagree more with this comment and made sure they knew it. Because you know me, I’m not shy in getting my point across. Counselling, for me, is not about picking the scab, it’s about healing the skin underneath the visible wound and making sure that you don’t have to cover that part of you up for the rest of your life.

I first accessed counselling at University. I was suicidal, again, unable to develop relationships with people on my course, or manage the workload and a full time job and a massive drinking habit. I drank every day at Uni. Fuelled by a diet of takeaways and garlic pizza. I couldn’t afford my rent half of the time but I could always afford a bender. Or worse, two, three, four bottles of wine alone at home.

This series of counselling was created purely to get me through my course, make sure I didn’t kill myself and embarrass the University and to meet a very basic welfare requirement. It wasn’t great. Eventually, whilst learning about anti-depressants and how they impact your brain, I started taking them. And sleeping pills. And anxiety medication. This is the first time I have ever told anybody about that. It goes some way to explain why I am so reluctant to rely on medication now, though I understand for some people it is a key part of their recovery.

For me, it wasn’t. Medication was a way of covering up the underlying issues and chemically making me feel slightly better without actually resolving any of those issues. Inevitably, I did not stop drinking during my time on meds and was unable to manage my workload, both academically and professionally. I scraped through Uni with a 2:2, astonishing considering how I felt at the time but really disappointing for me when I know I could easily have gained a 1st.

It was during this time that I discovered James Pennebaker, a pioneer of writing therapy. At 19 years old, I decided to do my dissertation on writing to heal trauma. Says a lot really doesn’t it? More recently, I have joined a Teaching Writer’s Group where this research is a focus and it is something I would like to introduce more into my teaching.

Later came Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) and a therapist I met through work who really did help me to remove the trauma from some of my most damaging memories. Unfortunately, she disclosed multiple comments from these private sessions during a work event and I had to end our relationship as I was unable to trust her, a huge thing for me. I don’t trust anybody and it is only recently that I have started opening up to people outside of Hubs, partly because since I’m not drinking I don’t cry all of the time and partly because I’m learning to be more capable of trusting people. The comments disclosed at work by my EFT practitioner caused difficulties within my professional life, which was a real shame because I found this technique to be great for managing my anxiety.

A few years ago, I was signed off work with depression and anxiety and my Doctor asked me if I would like to be referred to a local counsellor. As I was refusing medication at this point, I thought counselling might help and so I agreed. I wish I hadn’t.

Fourteen months after my initial referral, I was finally granted an appointment with a male counsellor. My only stipulation for counselling was that I could only access a female counsellor. I did go though, after waiting for fourteen months, I figured it was at least worth a shot. I was in a new job and my mental health had improved dramatically so what could the harm possibly be right?

Sadly for both us, this counsellor was unable to establish rapport with me and I cancelled my following appointments. I then received a phone call asking me why I had missed an appointment. I explained that I had cancelled my appointments as I did not feel they would be beneficial to me. I later received a text asking me what my problem was… Just what somebody with anxiety and depression needs. Again, I explained that I had requested a female counsellor and that this relationship would not work for me. I received multiple texts about the counsellor’s many qualifications and decided not to respond and pass the information on to the centre. It was fun. (It was not fun, I actually cried in Lidl car park. If that’s not the most depressing thing you’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.)

My next dalliance was via an Employee Assistance Programme and I was referred to the most incredible woman I have ever had the honour of meeting and was then allowed to sit in a room with for an uninterrupted hour at a time! We had six sessions over the Summer prior to my wedding and our parting was bitter sweet. I was better, but my god I did not want to leave her.

Recently, I have decided to access my Employee Assistance Programme again to resolve a recent issue that I would like putting to bed now rather than it rearing its ugly head for the next ten years in a constant reminder of my failure as a daughter. Imagine my surprise when the delightful therapist from prior to my wedding called to book an appointment with me and half way through we both realised who we were!

Her first questions was, “Are you still in that awful job?!” Where I laughed and explained I had taken a year out and then returned to education earlier this year. This time around, I am entirely focused on what it is I believe needs resolving and the fact that I am taking this step pre-emptively before it begins causing problems for me in the future is such a change to how I have accessed counselling previously. I have always resorted to it as a last chance saloon and that is not how I want to utilise this fantastic resource at all.

I want to use couselling to ensure that huge, traumatic events that happen can be worked through safely, put to rest in the aftermath of when they happen so they can’t resurface, popping out when I am at my lowest and having the potential to tip me over the edge. That is not how I want my future to be. I don’t want to have depression, anxiety, medication, suicidal thoughts. I want to live my best life with my best people, snuggling cats and dancing across beaches in the sunshine.

I couldn’t be happier to be going to see my therapist again. The trust and respect I already have for her means that I have no anxiety about visiting her next week. I know that over six sessions, we will work through this. And I know that I don’t have to start at the beginning of my story again, she already knows the bulk of it, we only have to update the story from the last couple of years, which saves time and avoids additional trauma.

Therapy is not a last resort before the worst happens. It is not picking at a scab that can never heal. It is not putting a plaster on the wound and ignoring it. It is the opportunity to heal the wound from its deepest hidden part so that you don’t have to hide it with a plaster for the rest of your life and eventually, there is no scab to pick.

If you have an Employee Assistance Programme (EAP), use it. Their counsellors are incredibly and if you don’t want to do face to face, they generally offer telephone counselling with better hours to suit working people. Remember with most EAP’s, your partner and children (providing they live at your address) can also access these facilities.

If you don’t have an EAP, shop around. It is OK to meet a therapist and not return to them if they don’t work for you. Find somebody who you feel comfortable with, who can build rapport and who asks you the questions you have never answered before.

But do access counselling, I can’t stress this enough. We don’t talk to people enough about what we are going through and if one visit to a therapist means that you have those issues in a more manageable order to be able to talk about them to the people that love you, then it is worth it. 

Last year, celebrities like Prince William, Prince Harry and Rio Ferdinand spoke publicly about their mental health and calls to counselling services from men rose by 300%. Remember, men are most at risk of suicide. If telling your story makes one person feel less alone in the world, then it is a story worth telling. And every story is a story worth telling, especially yours.

Celebrating 50 days sober and the end of term with a Patronus Alcohol Free wheat beer and the paddling pool!