Saturday, 16 April 2016

Talking About CBT

When I knew that I was being sent to CBT, or Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, I bricked it. Maybe I'm not that ill, I thought, do I really need a councillor? I'll just back out closer to the time, the waiting list is extensive anyway I won't get there for months; and so on, and so on, for months and months and months - until it finally rolled around. I sat sullenly in my first session and didn't know what to expect, but I left feeling positive - and although two left me with a new diagnosis that threw me a bit; this week, I found myself looking forward to getting there once again, to being able to say the worst worries on my mind to someone who won't judge or walk away because of them.

CBT seemed scary to me - but now it's something that I understand, something that I look positively towards, as when I step in that room I know I'm going to voice everything that's weighing on me, and then I'm going to leave them in that room and walk away with new coping techniques. I'm three weeks into my CBT course and I feel better, stronger, not fixed - but more able to ensure that I'm taking care of the broken parts in the way that I should be doing. CBT is teaching me to stay clean, it's teaching me to take care of myself, and it's teaching me how to react to those around me - all invaluable life lessons.

What it's taught me more than anything it to take care of myself, to cut myself some slack and give myself some patience even when it feels like there's nobody else doing the same thing for me. I find it comforting to know that no matter how bad things get, I'm never more than 7 days away from a full hour where I can rant, rave, sketch angrily on paper and tell someone something and know that at the end, they're still wishing me the best, still pushing me to get better, still knowing that one day I will.

CBT is a huge step - and I know how disconcerting it can be when you get that letter to say you're up- but trust me on this one, it's not nearly as bad as you think. It's your own personal diary that leaves no evidence, you can say anything in that room and then walk away from it - in fact, you should, it's sort of the point. It's like having a doctor and a cheerleader in one; only they're not expecting anything from you, they only want you to get better for yourself - and in a world where I know that I feel guilty for placing my problems onto another person; someone impartial and non-judgemental is exactly what I found I needed.

I'll update as I go along, but I just wanted to update after my first few sessions to say; it's going well. It's helping - in ten weeks, we'll see just how much.

Sammy xo.

If you liked this you might like: Happiness

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