Why I think I’m done with counselling.

I’ve always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with counselling.

Attending my regular one-on-one sessions each week is something that I’ve always tried to stick with because I thought that off-loading my troubles and worries to a mutual party would do me good and help me to move on. Perhaps it might make me happier and teach me coping strategies for when I’m struggling to manage my emotions and I lose control.

But just lately I’ve found myself questioning whether it’s actually doing me any good at all.

The thing is, the way in which my counselling sessions work is I am actively encouraged to talk about my past for an hour. To dredge up past events and memories – many of which have contributed heavily to my mental health issues in the present day – and then re-live them all over again.

The upshot of this is that I end up going home from each session feeling bloody miserable and dreading the following week.

So really, what’s the point?

A number of people have said to me that they wonder how much good it’s doing me to keep dragging up the past over and over again when I should really be trying to move forward and I think they’re right.

So I’ve decided that I need to knock counselling on the head sooner rather than later.

How can I look to the future if I’m not aloud to forget my past?

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