Amy’s thoughts on counselling

 
thoughts on counselling
 

Amy is one of our Trustees and has written this piece about her personal experience with counselling. At Suicide&Co our main service that we’re fundraising for is one on one counselling and therapy, as we believe it can be hugely beneficial but is not accessible enough. 

A problem shared is a problem halved couldn't be a truer saying when you talk about counselling. It is one of the greatest and bravest admissions in life (but also one of the toughest), when you are able to raise your hands to the heavens and admit that you need a little support or a metaphorical helping hand to work on yourself so you can once more thrive rather than survive. 

It is great talking to friends and family, but I found talking, (I mean really talking), to a trained professional allowed me to delve down the rabbit warren and really work out why particular feelings emerged out of the ground like an unstoppable force. For me, one of the most refreshing and cathartic parts was talking to someone about my craziest and darkest thoughts and them looking back at me calmly ready to untie the knot together. Vocalising dark or sad thoughts and concerns out loud is scary, when they are in your subconscious they seem almost unreal, but when they are out on the table the terrifying enormity can be completely overwhelming, so knowing how to acknowledge, navigate and then move past them is an emotional rollercoaster that is better done with someone by your side. 

Counselling isn't for some people and should never be forced upon someone if they aren't ready and willing, like all things in life you will only get out what you put in. You need a person that you can let it all out with, someone that you trust and at the end of each session, someone who waves you off as the normal human being you are, allowing you to get on with the rest of the day as if you hadn't just had open heart surgery in front of them.

Some of my counselling sessions were simply me entering the room and crying for an hour, even without a word muttered the cathartic experience still worked wonders in allowing the poison inside me to ebb out and away. 

 

Written by Amy Ropner 

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