Today I had an appointment with my counsellor. I’d not seen her in 4 weeks because of ‘life’ (mostly my trial, more on that later), and I had a lot to talk about. It’s odd as sometimes I don’t feel like talking. I’m happy to sit in silence, writing, reading, working away and if I’m alone I don’t feel the need to speak. Yet, when I’m sitting in her cosy room at the JR, I find it so easy to just talk and talk and talk and talk.
I never thought that I’d be one to embrace counselling, but I think that’s because I never understood exactly what it is. It’s not a cure, it’s a tool. For me it allows me to tell someone how I’m feeling, how I felt, share memories and experiences and not worry that the person listening isn’t interested or doesn’t care, or worse, thinks I’m attention-seeking or making it up. I come away from these sessions feeling lighter and less emotionally bogged down. I feel vitalised and positive and they help me find the energy and enthusiasm to start planning mini projects or organising myself and my personal space.
What I talk about isn’t secret, but it’s not for public consumption either. It’s a combination of pain triggers, emotional scars and memories, and concerns for the future. I’ve chosen to go fortnightly and so far I’ve definitely seen a difference. I feel less stressed and my pain has decreased. It could be coincidental due to environmental changes, but I guess November will let me know!
Oh yes, my big trial…Happy Sammy here. In April I became OIC (officer in case) for a nasty job. On Friday last week the defendant was sentenced to 18years in prison for attempted murder at court. Justice!