There are two things that stand out as the phrases that people say to me most – and they’re both essentially the same.
“Don’t overthink it”
If there was an off switch, I’d definitely flick it.
Something happened to me this week that some people could manage with the minimum of fuss or worry. I drove up a curb and caused damage to the sidewall of one of my tyres. Damn. I was trying to save money this month.
So what runs through my mind when I find out it will have to be replaced? First and foremost is the frustration that it was entirely my fault and that had I driven that little bit slower (I wasn’t speeding, but I also could have been more wary) and controlled, it wouldn’t have happened anyway.
Second of all, of course, is the money issue. I had my MOT last month and my car failed. It pretty much depleted the small amount of savings I had – and it wasn’t anywhere near as expensive as it could have been. But my brain focuses on “what if it had been?” for some reason.
Third of all, which ties into the second, is “what if the garage find more issues?”. There we go again – more imaginary money gone.
But not all my concerns in life are financial.
I have this tendency to approach things for every angle. It’s exhausting, tbh. It doesn’t make me good in an argument either though because my thoughts from every perspective are scattered – they’re messy. My brain is a whirlpool of “what ifs”. It makes decision making feel like running a marathon (I imagine cos lol you won’t find me doing that).
So that’s why I decided to start counselling.
But why now? I’ve been struggling with decision making and switching my brain off for a long time.
It’s all thanks to a fellow blogger, actually. You probably know who, but if not, it’s queen of the bloggers Hannah Gale. She wrote a post, and made a Youtube video about her counselling experience. She made seeking help more accessible and acceptable.
Like me, she didn’t start counselling because she was depressed or anything, she started it to take control. To make positive change.
My first session was a mixture of nervousness and a river of tears. It’s hard to open up. But my counsellor did a great job of just letting me talk. She didn’t interrupt, or ask loads of questions. She listened. She occasionally prompted. She understood.
And that’s what we all need sometimes. To get it all out, to dig deep and vocalise. Even if it means after the session you have to pop in to Sainsburys for some comfort food with a blotchy cryface.
It’s early days, but I feel like deciding to see a counsellor is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
I don’t know how long I’ll go be going to see a counsellor for, but I know for now I’m really looking forward to my next session.
To find a local private counsellor, I used this directory. I pay £35 per session, which seems to be an average for outside of London and other big cities.