Search

Blog

Scars
Posted by BlackDogTribe
24th Sep 2014

Triber @TheGirlWaits has started seeing a counsellor to help her with her depression and anxiety. Read her story and show your support in the comments below.

I’ve started seeing someone. A counsellor. It’s something I’ve avoided for as long as I have been diagnosed as depressed/anxious (11 years), for more reasons that I can remember now. They include: I didn’t want to share what I felt with myself let alone a stranger, I didn’t have anything worth talking about, I was better, I was afraid of what I might feel, I was afraid of what they might think of me, I didn’t need it, I was coping fine on my own, I had my husband to talk to … all valid reasons I believed.

I realise now that I was being narrow minded and giving in to my fears and unfounded assumptions. I am two sessions in and while I’m not a convert to counselling yet, I am willing to give it a go. I understand the process and acknowledge even getting this far has been a huge, long overdue step for me, which makes me feel a little bit proud of myself.

I’ve left both sessions exhausted, emotional and unsure if what I’m doing is the right thing. The talking and crying about things which I’m hoping will help me control my anxieties are unfortunately very triggering for my depression. When you’ve got a two-headed beast to fight, how do you decide which head to chop off first? Each time I’ve barely made it home before the eye-popping headache starts, barely managed to put the children to bed before I have collapsed into my own and cried myself to sleep.

As gross as it is, I’m trying to think of it as an infected wound – as painful as the clear out is, it’s essential to allow healing. I’ll always bear the scars, and I know the wounds could re-open in the future, but the scars will remind me how far I’ve come and that I am capable of healing.

You may also like to read more of @TheGirlWait's blog - if so, click here.

Share Email a friend Comments (1)