Counselling part 1

The trouble with counselling is that it takes over your whole life; it’s entirely in the external world its entirely in the internal world. More often than not those two worlds are colliding.

How can an hour-hour and a half impact so much, how it can just be that all the sodding time?

Feel hungry; decide to eat something reasonable that means a cheese sandwich, rather than just a bag of crisps.

OK, probably means sandwich and crisps. Seems a relatively innocuous, maybe even positive, looking after myself action. But it’s loaded with memories about my stepfather. The memories are still strong; my mind wants to fight me over the cheese sandwich. OK, I give in I have toast and crisps. See!!!!!  I am determined to get those crisps in somewhere. The cheese sandwich becomes a danger, a risk.


It feels like counselling is creating a trail of gunpowder around me. It was a trail, now it’s becoming a mountain. Miniscule things can start the sparks inside.

Every memory has its different set of feelings, trouble is they get so muddled up; it’s hard to find words.

When other peoples words come out they can set the sparks off.

Sometimes at the end of a counselling session the counsellor asks are you ok to leave;

sometimes I want to say –yep-ok-ok ish

sometimes I want to say I can’t run quick enough to get out

sometimes I want to say –  no I don’t feel safe-but I still have to leave-I say I’m ok

sometimes I can’t say anything very comprehensible-sort of nod as I pull on my jacket in a very disorganised manner-and get out the door-I tell myself I leave the room  in a cool “I am fine and don’t give a dam fashion”…………… think I am only fooling myself on that one!!!!!!

The last couple of counselling sessions have been too overwhelming. I felt like I need a fire extinguisher. It’s the kind of feeling that screams for a bear hug, which is yelling out for someone to say let’s go for a drink—(alcoholic–) get mildly merry and put the world to rights. Trouble is, even if someone offered I’d probably run away.

So, instead, when I get home, its destination bed and sleep or bed and struggling to stay in the here and now. Followed by a mega binge.





Tears,tears and more tears.

Its been one hell of a week. Guess its about been more in tune with whats going on around me. In reality that means I’m so aware of how other peoples lives  seem so busy and fulfilled.Spent a long time in a car with some colleagues. They were all busy people. Catching up on their texts, sending texts to people, arranging meetings.

Left me feeling very isolated, left me realizing what a different life I’ve had.

Ok,we,never know what someone’s life is like, especially their internal life.

I have kept myself so separate from people; it’s changing but so slowly. Tears have been for a life lost, for the non-existent children, the missing relationships. Tears  for the fear that I will never get back into life, that somehow it’s not for me..

Tears for the counselling session. Talking about my relationship with food. That that is my life relationship. Trying to get my head round it.That food has taken, almost, over from my relationship with everything and everyone else. Way way back, standing in a road, 8 years old, cake box in one hand, money in the other. Being so terrified of going into a house where I would have tea in china cups and  a cake followed by abuse. I guess in my 8 year old mind I got caught up in escape of the pleasure of the cake and somehow got caught up in the middle of the cake.

Feeling caught up in a maelstrom   of emotion,stuggling like crazy to focus and failing bigtime .Feeling like non person. Feeling very alone and very frightened. Trying to tell myself this is part of the journey,this is the bit where I need every millisecond  of energy.My energy is melting away with the tears.