Once I felt ready to start counselling, to explore my issues, I thought that it would be easy. Just turn up to my counselling sessions and talk, and I would begin to feel better. But it isn’t quite like that. There's nothing anyone can say, even a professional, which will magically re-scramble my thinking, immediately make my life better. Counselling is helping me begin to facilitate positive changes in my life: learn new coping strategies for managing my anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts, develop my confidence, and build my resilience. I’m beginning to recognise the difference between a bad day and the beginning of another relapse. I’m learning that it’s ok to fail, that I just need to keep trying. That all endings are also beginnings.
In rediscovering my love of reading I am beginning to see the benefits for my mental well being. Reading helps me sleep, relax and find a sense of calm. It's helping me find the words to articulate how I'm feeling. Writing is also helping me clarify my thoughts and feelings, see patterns in my behaviour, gain a different perspective. Writing, both mine and others, is helping me on my journey of recovery.
Depression knocked on my door, And I told it, Have a seat, It wasn’t even dawn, At least let me have a cup of coffee, In peace, at least- I said to my depression. Depression knocked on my door, And... Continue Reading →
At the age of 40 I’ve started talking therapy for the fourth time. This time, now that I feel my life has hit rock bottom, I feel I’m ready to be honest about what’s going on for me, to deal with the issues that have been causing me pain for as long as I can remember.
I was diagnosed with depression in January 2015. I was shocked when she suggested antidepressants: I had known for a long time that there was something wrong with me, but it had never occurred to me that I might be depressed. This was the beginning of a long journey that I can’t yet see the end of.
I am wearing purple 