Learning to Swallow My Pride

I see a counsellor.

I see a counsellor for my anxiety.

I see a counsellor for my anxiety because I cannot currently deal with my symptoms without help.

"antimonocromatismo II" - Silvia Pelissero (agnes-cecile.deviantart.com)

This does not make me weak. This does not make me less worthy. This does not mean that I am incapable of functioning. This does not mean that I am unable to help my friends when they need me.

These are all things that I am trying to learn, and still trying to believe.

It's the kind of thing where I KNOW that it's true, that going to counselling doesn't actually mean anything beyond the fact that I'm taking care of myself, but I'm still not 100% able to convince myself (ironically, because of my anxiety).

Part of me never wanted to have to go to a counsellor. A big part of me, actually. It felt like admitting defeat. If felt like my anxiety won - that if I couldn't handle it on my own, then it officially beat me. I set arbitrary little 'defeats' like that for myself all the time, for no reason other than to knock myself down. I think a part of it too is the stigma in our society that still surrounds counselling and, at a deeper level, asking for help. We're so individualistic and independent that needing others seems pathetic. Those who need counselling are not made to succeed, in the eyes of our Western World.

However, I finally found a counsellor that felt like a good fit for me (this is CRUCIAL - you can't just pick anyone and assume that it'll work out, you have to have a good relationship with your counsellor. I did so many different 20-minute introduction session and then never went back. And yes, this can be exhausting). My counsellor seems so human to me, and this is a blessing. She understands that I know the process behind counselling (I'm currently working towards a diploma in addictions counselling), and she takes that seriously and doesn't coddle me or dumb down the terminology. I can tell the strategies that she's using. I agree with them. And here's the key for me:

I. Am. Not. Fighting. The. Process. 

I accept that I am doing this counselling for my own benefit, and that if I'm gonna spend the money on it, then I may as well go all-in. No holding back. Do my homework. Be 100% honest. Accept her insights. DO. NOT. FIGHT. CHANGE.

But still, I struggle with the idea of counselling. Why am I so messed up that I need professional help? Are my problems really bad enough to take the time of my counsellor? Surely there's someone that needs her help more than I do. Has my anxiety won? Do I really think that counselling is actually going to help? Why can't I just solve my own problems? If my friends know that I'm going to counselling, will they stop coming to me for help? Do they think I'm weak? Am I weak? How can I think that I have what it takes to work in the field of helping others if I can't help myself? What will life be like without my anxiety symptoms overwhelming me? Will I just become emotionally numb? Will I know how to function without overthinking and planning everything?

I fear My anxiety fears all parts of counselling. The initiation, the process, the outcome.

But I still walk away from every counselling session feeling lighter. Feeling refreshed and ready to face tomorrow. I have a really good feeling about this, and I really do think it will help. It's another form of self-care, and I owe myself the time and effort.

I see a counsellor for my anxiety because I am strong enough to take care of myself.

"To read every day:

1. You are not a burden on your loved ones.

2. You care too much what other people think.

3. Things are never as bad or as hopeless as they seem.

4. Any progress is progress and should be celebrated.

5. Treat yourself nicely today." 

- The Latest Kate