About 10 years ago, when the black dog was smothering me and all I could think about was running away, I finally took myself to the GP. He referred me for counselling. Six sessions later, and feeling no better, the counsellor looked at me sadly and said "You have a lot of issues. You need more help.". And then threw me back out into my very ugly world.
So I found a private counsellor. He sat, he listened, but he gave nothing back. This was his style. But after a few sessions I felt we were getting nowhere. So I stopped.
A year or two later, and somehow even lower, I found another counsellor. After a few sessions I could tell this one wasn't going to help either. So I stopped again.
"Counselling doesn't help me" I thought. "You're beyond help" said the voices. So I didn't try again.
Years later, I was confessing to a good friend how hard I was still finding things, and she encouraged me to try again.
This time I found a counsellor with a different approach. She listens, she probes, she understands, and she tells me back what I've just told her so I can hear it myself. Her approach clicked. We clicked. And so I kept seeing her.
With my counsellor's help I have realised things I would never have realised on my own; and I now know myself far better than I did before. It has been painful. At the beginning I was terrified of crying because I thought if I started I would never stop. But I did cry, and I did stop crying. That room has become my private space to say the unsayable, to feel the unfeelable, to stare my demons in the face, release their power over me and moved on. I have found clarity, understanding and peace that I never thought possible.
I tell you this, dear Moodscopers, in the hope that my story may encourage others who are considering help. Or those who may have tried it and found it not to help. It can be exceptionally painful, but I truly believe that with the right person it does work.
With love and peace
A Moodscope member.