My three therapists

And how they helped

Hello, and thank you for reading The Honesty Box. Today, I’m writing about mental health and some of my experiences of therapy, which range from heart-opening to hilarious.

If you are reading this and need urgent help, call the Samaritans on 116123.

I’ve been to see therapists a few times over the years and have found talking to them hugely helpful on the whole. 

This is by no means a recommendation, I’m just sharing some of the stuff that has been useful to me, and I’ll link to official sources of information along the way. Some of the time, I have been able to access private therapy, either because my parents paid or I did, which I am aware is a privilege. I’m detailing free or inexpensive services below. 

So, here goes.

The one who cured my teenage angst

The first time I went to a therapist, I was a teenager dealing with anxiety. I don’t know if it was the hormones of adolescence or whether there was another kind of trigger, but somehow I became convinced - completely irrationally - that my mother was going to disappear, and it started interfering with my life. If the two of us were at home together and she needed to go to the shops, I had to go with her. Or, I would phone a friend the whole time she was out to take my mind off it.

Perhaps my worries were connected to my mum's own concerns about me growing up and having to fend for myself in the big wide world without her, and aged 15 my nervousness about the adulthood ahead translated itself into this particular anxiety. 

Of course, the problem you go to therapy for is usually only the starting point - something deeper is going on

One time, I got so worked up that when I stayed over at a friend’s house and her parents were out - which I guess made me feel like maybe we really had been abandoned - I vomited. I think that event was the tipping point that made me ask for help, and my doctor referred me to a cognitive behavioural therapist I’ll call Prof D, who helped me face my fears. 

In the first appointment with Prof D, he asked me what I would advise a friend who had similar worries to mine, and while my first answer was to tell them to talk to a therapist (I was funny back then), I realised he was trying to get me to solve my own problem. I clearly recall saying “well she’d have to face her fears,” and that is exactly what he got me to do.

CBT deals with what’s going on in the present, without digging around in your childhood or past, and I found it very helpful in curing my specific problem. Prof D gave me practical exercises, such as writing down my worries when my mother went out, and asked me to rate on a scale of one to 10 how anxious I felt. I wasn’t allowed to “cheat” and phone a friend while she was away, and I think the length of time I was alone in the house increased over time. Prof D helped me to train my brain to be more rational, and gradually my concerns lessened. 

Prof D wasn’t perfect. I remember him saying something about me sitting with “the nutters in the waiting room,” which I giggled at, but it was probably entirely inappropriate.

The one who solved my single “problem”

In my late thirties, I sought help again, this time because I felt depressed about being single - my “presenting problem” in therapy-speak. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship for a while, and the men I did date turned out to be druggies or narcissists or were simply emotionally unavailable.

This time, I went to see Ms P, a psychotherapist I found via the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BACP), which lists therapists. Psychotherapists tend to look at your past to help you identify patterns of behaviour and gain insight into who you are, and I definitely found it gave me some lightbulb moments.

The things you resist are usually things that end up being true

During my first session with Ms P, I explained all the things I had done to “solve” the “issue” of not having a boyfriend (and by the way, I no longer think being single is a problem to be cured), from dating apps to Facebook posts appealing for a partner (a whole other story I will write about one day) and getting my friends to set me up. I had to make sure Ms P understood how dedicated I was to finding a partner and show how practically I was approaching this issue.

Of course, the problem you go to therapy for is usually only the starting point - something deeper is going on. In that first chat with Ms P, she helped me realise that I deserve love. In fact, I think she made me shout it out to her to reinforce the point. Over the course of our sessions, Ms P also suggested that I was ambivalent about finding a partner - something I rejected. As I discovered, the things you resist are usually things that end up being true, or are the points that lead to a greater understanding of yourself. Great therapists will hold up a mirror to their clients and know exactly how much to push them when they resist. I discovered that maybe it was me who was emotionally unavailable.

The golden one

I’ll call the next therapist GV, for reasons that will become clear. I went to see GV about a decade ago, a few years after my father passed away. I was feeling low and misunderstood and needed an outlet. 

GV ran her practice from home in north London and we would talk sitting diagonally across from each other in her plain but warm living room. I would sit on a small chair and cover myself with a blanket she provided, pulling it up to my shoulders and letting it fall over my knees. I never asked her why it was there, but I knew that being under it made me feel less exposed somehow.

I don’t remember much about what we discussed, and I didn’t have many sessions with GV, but once or twice she would stop me mid-sentence when I was finding it hard to articulate the exact point I wanted to get across, ask me to close my eyes and take me through a guided meditation. 

On one occasion, I had to picture a golden light travelling through my body. 

“Imagine the light is hovering above your head,” she said. 

I started to feel relaxed and calm.

“It’s warm and glowing. Now, feel it entering the top of your head, your mind, your face.” 

That was a nice feeling.

“Now, the light is entering your chest, travelling down towards your stomach.” 

So far, so good.

“The light is filling your stomach with its glowing warmth.”

Lovely.

“Now, feel this golden light moving through your vagina.”

MY VAGINA?!

This therapist became forever known as GV – golden vagina. 

I think I’ll leave it there.

Thanks to Marcel Strauß and Unsplash for the image that goes with this post when viewed The Honesty Box desktop homepage.

Things I like

Sources of help

Asking for help is the first step to feeling better, and your GP will know what support is available. The NHS’s free IAPT service offers talking therapies and you can refer yourself, though you need to be registered with a GP.

Headstrong Counselling is a therapy service that charges £15 to £35 per session, and uses trainee counsellors who are supervised by a qualified psychologist or psychotherapist. It only takes about a week or so from assessment to being assigned a therapist.

Shout is a text-messaging service that helps people who feel they need immediate support. The number is 85258 and texts are free. 

JAAQ, or Just Ask A Question, is a website that lets people ask questions about mental health issues like depression, anxiety and body dysmorphic disorder. It’s a bit tricky to work, but doctors and well-known people have recorded answers to common questions about mental health, and this video explains how it works.

Therapy for therapists

A friend lent me Lori Gottlieb’s excellent book Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, about her experiences as a psychotherapist – who herself goes to therapy after a breakup. “Ever wonder what your therapist is thinking? Now you can find out,” reads the back cover. Gottlieb deftly weaves events in her own life around the stories of the patients she’s seeing, and we get to see how she helps people at first hand. It’s a brilliant insight into the human mind.