March 6th 2019
Today I got a phone call from a counsellor asking me to come in for an appointment that I’d forgotten I’d requested.
Towards the end of last year, I wasn’t doing so well mentally. After breaking up with my girlfriend, I lived alone for a while until eventually moving back in with my Mum and Dad. A potential new job had fallen through, and suddenly my life had taken about fourteen steps backwards. And I wasn’t feeling great.
I spoke to a friend about it all, and she told me that she’d really benefited from seeing a counsellor, and suggested that maybe it would help me too. I was at first really hesitant (for all the reasons you can imagine a 25-year-old man would be hesitant about seeing a counsellor) but she convinced me to at least put my name down because they have a 3+ month waiting list. So I did. Eventually.
Four months later I get the call. I missed it at first, and then I missed the second one too, but the counsellor left a voicemail and said they had a free slot opening up this week if I still wanted to come in and speak to them.
At the time, when I originally requested the appointment, I needed help making some big decisions. And I thought I might benefit from talking to someone impartial. I was trying to decide whether to move out into my own place locally, or to stay at my Mum and Dad’s for a while. Or even to pick up everything and fuck off to London or Reading or Germany or the Moon.
I was at my absolute worst before I moved back in with Mum and Dad. I was living alone in the house that I shared with my ex-girlfriend, not eating particularly well, not sleeping much, and returning every day to an empty house. That wasn’t healthy in any interpretation of the word. I knew that living alone again probably wasn’t a good idea, but I didn’t know what to do. So I needed help.
Four months later, and I don’t need the help as much any more. A lot of fantastic things have happened to me since the turn of the year, and I’m feeling a lot of happiness, drive, and motivation again. Obviously being at home with Mum has meant I’m eating better. I’m actually getting about eight hours sleep each night — and I haven’t done that since before University. The extra energy has helped my running too, and I’m fitter and faster than I’ve been in my entire life. I’m really making progress in my job at the moment too, and I’m feeling enthusiastic and proud of the work we’re doing.
So I’m feeling pretty good. But I’m still thinking about going along to the counselling session for the simple fact that it can’t hurt, right?
I no longer have any big decisions to make. Not for a while, at least. But I guess that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t benefit from talking to someone about what’s gone on. So I might go along, and see how it makes me feel.
Until tomorrow, it can’t hurt, right?