By Charlotte Gaffney

In September 2018, my younger sister had just embarked on her university journey. I, on the other hand, had packed up all my belongings and moved back home after a failed attempt at university. 

During my sister’s first visit home, she was full of stories about the amazing experiences that she had been having. I sat and listened silently, anger bubbling inside. Then, one night, the anger burst in the form of a screaming rage. When a gap emerged between the screams and tears, my mum calmly stated that I should consider seeing a doctor. I accepted.  

I’d been aware of my declining mental health for some time. Negative thoughts first arose during my final year of sixth form college. My anxiety had increased, causing me difficulties with sleep, but I didn’t seek help. I believed that after my A-levels, the anxiety would disappear. 

During my year at university, my emotions became fixed in a state of constant sadness. Again, I didn’t seek help. Instead, I concluded that my unhealthy work schedule and struggles to adapt to university life were the cause behind the way that I was feeling. I ended up burying everything deep inside, using excuses to weigh the feelings down. 

At the doctors, I talked through everything that was on my mind. The doctor confirmed my suspicions; I was suffering from depression. I didn’t react as I thought I would – the sound didn’t fade out around me as I dropped into a state of complete shock. Instead, I accepted the diagnosis calmly. I was put on a prescription of anti-depressants and was given information about a NHS run therapy service. I called up the service and booked my first session for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT).

I attended a ten session CBT course, which is the maximum number of courses that the NHS service offer. After repeating everything that I’d told the doctor to my CBT councillor, she suggested that we focus on creating weekly routines: routines help with change, creating healthy habits, and reducing stress. 

Over the ten sessions, we filled in my weekly routine sheet, which was always followed by a brief talk about my present thoughts and feelings. This helped in the moment, but these thoughts still lingered after the talks were over, which sometimes derailed me from the routines that I had worked to establish. 

When the CBT sessions ended, I realised that it might be beneficial to find a longer form of talking therapy. I was able to structure my days, but my depression prevented me from following the structure completely. I was also experiencing reoccurring negative thoughts that were holding me back from improving my mental health. 

I reached out to my CBT councillor for some advice and received a long list of talking therapy services. I decided to apply for a service that was local but also affordable. A few days later, I went to one of the service’s centres to attend my assessment so I could be matched with the best therapist. 

The assessment was very uncomfortable. I had to open myself up completely to a stranger, reveal things that I’d buried deep inside myself for years. Even though the assessment moderator was very understanding and comforting, it was still intimidating – at times, embarrassing. When the assessment ended, I was matched with a therapist. A week later, I attended my first session.

It took a while for the discombobulation of someone actually listening and validating everything that I was saying to wear off. Even after two years, that feeling is still sometimes present. I’ve found it extremely positive to realise that whatever I said would be heard by my therapists and would be explored in a comforting and understanding manner. The freedom to be heard helped me to build up my confidence, both in therapy and in the outside world. 

Despite all the benefits, there was one problem: my therapist kept pushing me to discuss issues that I didn’t feel comfortable confronting. She wanted me to question situations that occurred during my childhood, situations that I didn’t particularly want to dive into. I wanted to focus primarily on my depression, which was the more pressing issue for me. But she kept suggesting I discuss other issues. 

This problem occurred because I didn’t feel comfortable taking control of the sessions. I was still trapped in the thought process that only the therapist could lead the sessions, and even with my newly discovered confidence, I was too nervous to take charge of the therapy route. This led to an uneasy energy permutating the rest of my sessions with that particular therapist. 

When the lockdown hit, our sessions continued regularly over Zoom. There wasn’t much difference with the move from in-person to virtual as we had already established a repour from a year of face-to-face discussions. Then, in the summer, the sessions abruptly ended when my therapist had to move and change jobs. This left me with the uncomfortable decision to either seek out a new therapist and start all over again or go forward alone. A month later, I decided that therapy would be the most beneficial option, especially as I’d begun experiencing severe panic attacks. 

I booked a new assessment at the same therapy centre, though this time, because of covid, the assessment was done over the phone. One might think that this would be more uncomfortable, but personally, I found it easier being at ease in my bedroom and without the intimidation of a stranger in front of me. We discussed my experiences with my first therapist and detailed the recent panic attacks. As a result of this phone call, I was placed with a new therapist, who I’m still with to this day. 

With my new therapist, all our sessions have been conducted over Zoom. With my old therapist, I was secure changing our sessions over to Zoom. With my new one, I found connecting fully over a screen difficult. I felt like I had to be more open with my communication because reading my body language over a screen is much harder. 

I pushed myself to be more open, focusing on taking control of the sessions by instigating the topics and issues that I wanted to highlight. After spending the early sessions placing attention on coping strategies for the panic attacks, I have been able to steer later sessions towards talking about coping strategies for my depression, as well as ways to combat loneliness.

I have learned that I don’t have to please my therapist, though I usually lean into agreeing with their theories and suggestions. With my new therapist, I’m focusing on speaking honestly about my feelings without the fear of their disapproval or negative repercussions. This is a tool that I’m still learning to be comfortable with. My therapist regularly reminds me that I can bring anything into the therapy space. 

Therapy isn’t a process that will work for everyone. Personally, it has been a positive experience; I’m learning to grow into a healthier and happier human being. I feel that there is still a long road to walk before I reach a satisfying end, but therapy is a path that I’m content to travel down. I encourage anyone else that is already on that path or those who are thinking of taking their first steps onto it to journey on.