I have finished level 3 of my core counsellor training!

When I say finished, I mean I’ve completed all the main assignments, including a presentation and activity for the group. Still a few weeks to go until the end of term but now I get to sit back and enjoying watching others’ presentations, knowing I’ve just got two more journals and a final self-review to complete. And portfolio to hand in.

Ok there’s still quite a lot to do but I’m so happy to have completed the presentation. I’ve had the topic in mind for about a year and I think I delivered it well enough. Presentations are scary and preoccupy my thoughts greatly on the lead-up. The last week has been a lesson in compartmentalising, not letting the anxiety weigh me down to the point where I have to put everything else on hold. Approaching the weekend, it feels good to know the only thing I have to worry about is whether the UK will score any points at Eurovision. My prediction: we will come third. From the bottom. But that’s just the hopeless optimist in me I’m afraid.

Happy happy!

Rest rest.

Repeat repeat. Only two years of level 4 diploma to go (bloody hell) before I can call myself a fully trained counsellor. There’s the mountain of the application and interview process to get through first, but for now, rest.

I feel so sad that level 3 is coming to an end. I love the group. Classes are an island sanctuary in a sea of turbulence and trouble and problems and uncertainties; a place to talk about anything, be anything, be fully held and accepted, met with curiosity and support.

Training hasn’t always been this smooth-sailing of course. I suppose compared to the atrocity that was 2021, anything was going to seem smooth this year. That was hard work, confronting my feelings about groups, the feelings that would come up so intensely they shocked me. Having experienced similar this year but more intermittently and not even half as intensely, I see this as progress in myself rather than being fortunate with the people in the group. Although they are a fabulous group of people. Oh my heart, I want to reach out and hug them and tell them what they’ve meant to me.

When I think back to three years ago when I started my counsellor training, when I was terrified at the thought of classes comprising of sitting around in a circle, group work, role play, all stuff very ‘not me’, and wondering what the hell I was thinking, yet somehow here I am! As awkward as I still feel when talking in front of a group, I am trying to become more accepting of that awkwardness as just part of me, while learning that much of the time people don’t even notice the awkwardness. Surprisingly that thought makes me sad. I must be quite attached to that awkwardness. I would like to embrace my awkward. As Brene Brown said, “Let’s choose awkward, brave, and kind”.

Finally, I am certain I want to proceed with the training. 

I think I will give myself a little pat on the back for how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown, while being able to acknowledge how far I still have to go, personally as well as in the professional training.

Pat pat. 

Well done. 

Now rest. 

It’s so interesting how we can “know” things about ourselves but not know them in such a way as to affect change and really understand them.

This for me is the key to successful therapy – finding a trusting and safe place to say absolutely everything because often, we know the things we’re holding back, but we don’t and can’t know the things we don’t know we’re holding back. And we may not know how pervasive certain things are. Something that seems like an insignificant problem may tie into larger patterns and ways of relating.

This week in counselling I happened to mention my plan for a book I am writing. This book is something about my lived experience. It has taken me a long time to get out of the academic writing mindset and bring in the creative writing. This in instrumental in allowing me to write this book because 1) I’m not an expert in anything, so the academic writing mindset was an obstacle, and 2) I cannot tell the truth about my lived experience.

It’s strange growing up, watching and reading stories about lives that get so tangled up in lies and you think, “Wow, I will never make things that complicated for myself!”

What I began to appreciate this week is the extent to which I don’t show my truth. I’ve always known ‘I can’t be myself’. This was a very early lesson from the age of 4 or 5 years. But even now, when wanting to say something of my lived experience, the impact and the lessons, and the fact that I’ve grown so much from it and it has spring boarded me to where I am now and where I am going – I can’t say it anywhere except in the counselling room. And when I told my counsellor the pains I was going through to ‘dress up’ my story so that no one would feel targeted or guilty or responsible in any way, she was sad. She was sad that I felt I needed to hide, sad at this further example of how I hide. How much I hide, how much I feel I need to!!

No wonder I feel pissed off all the time.

And it was this sadness that was the key. I wouldn’t have had this realisation without our counselling relationship, seeing the impact through another’s eyes. I am seeing how hidden I am to everyone except her. Even with her still, in some regards.

She said some people might be helped by hearing my experience. This made me wonder – have I been living in a cowardly and selfish way?

Then I have to question whether this is the part of me that still feels the need to protect and serve others.

Because the truth is I haven’t meant to lie and to hide my truth. I did it to keep from burdening others who seemed bothered by my presence, who were disturbed by my fear and sadness. I hid to protect them. Even now, choices I make are hidden in order to protect others.

Yet there are people who would be helped and comforted from hearing this experience of hiding, as well as the things I have hidden.

That’s the dilemma isn’t it? Knowing our experiences are not unique and wanting to share, but fear of – hurting others, of being judged. I am trying to protect others, but how much am I also protecting myself? Is that selfish? It was survival, but now? And am I really protecting others or robbing them up potential catalysts to spring board them into their own growth, their own truths?

I know why I feel I need to protect others, but how to counteract this feeling when each ‘transgression’ is filled with the most intense shame and anxiety?

Along with this we discussed creative blocks. One of mine is the fear of running out of time and the need to do something quickly, before it’s too late, before I lose what I need in order to achieve it. How much time has already gone!

So many questions. How can anyone ever be sure enough of anything to make a stand or take a stance? We all need to fit in with others, yet we all want/need to live authentically. Where is the line?

Songs can be so comforting, helping to make lessons easier to swallow!

In the words of the Donots:

“I know myself well enough
to know that I don’t know myself.”

Recently I have upped my efforts to acquaint myself with birdsong. I can just about recognise robin, magpie, chiff chaff, blue tit, great tit, the obvious ones like cuckoo and wood pigeon (coo coo – so cute), probably a variety of crows that I just call Crow.

During my earlier walk, I wasn’t seeing many birds because the trees are all poofy. But I was hearing them and recognising (most of) them (or at least imagining I was) so it felt like I was seeing them. I feel more connected to my surroundings because I know them better – the sounds of birds, the types of trees and wildflowers.

And I thought about how this is the same with anything, including emotions and aspects of self. When we can recognise and name them, we feel connected to them. We might not like them but we can appreciate them for where they’re from and what they bring. I don’t want butterflies flapping around me but I can appreciate their importance and beauty.

That’s it really. Just an example of grounding. It just struck me because I was doing it without thinking. I didn’t have to decide to dedicate time to mindfulness and grounding. My walks have become even more mindful and grounding thanks to birdsong.

I’ve always struggled to be my own friend and support, but when you’re someone who needs external validation, the advice is always be for yourself what you want from others.

That means I have to make a super duper effort to be kind to myself and approve of myself, and know that if I’m expressing my true self, then that’s all I can. Uncomfortable but necessary, and I’m taking this seriously, as I do most things.

I was going through notes and found this from July 2020. It made me smile, especially the end. So powerful reading messages from my supportive self.

Time was not lost or wasted. You were always heading towards growth, accumulating experiences, stacking them on top of one another. Unsatisfactory experiences produce a wobbly stack, with only the slightest breeze of a change required to challenge it. Things topple, perhaps gradually or all at once. This can feel catastrophic, depending on the time of accumulation or the strength required over time to preserve the self against the wobbles. The constant watching and shifting and waiting and anticipation.
Your future will be brighter because of what you’ve been through, because you were brave enough to examine yourself.
The old is gone. The thoughts are new.
There is meaning in the smallest things because you are still here to enjoy them.

You weren’t just thinking of yourself, but of others also, by realising how your pursuit of getting your needs met was impacting them. Change became about protecting those around you as well as yourself. But you deserve protection too.

You’re not selfish for what you’ve been through. Your fear was selfish. You fought against that fear, which is brave. You gave in to that fear. That is also brave, and through that, you learned.

You’re a brave and honest person. You changed because you care.

I’ve been looking out for birds collecting sticks and other bits for their nests. It makes me chuckle to watch as they grapple with sticks that are a little too big, and sometimes still attached to the tree. They’re so diligent and wonderful to watch.

Today I feel sad and I have been thinking really hard about how I can take care of myself. And I remembered I recorded this video last week. It made me smile to watch the crow navigating along the branch, with a stick at least as long as itself, and occasionally stopping to tap at it in an attempt to break it down. Between tapping it would seem to look around as if to say, I hope no one is watching this debacle.

So I’m re-watching it to cheer myself up. Something about the head movement and the tapping, is just so charming to me.

“Notice the juxtaposition of the flamingo and the owl. The owl representing wisdom, the archetype of the wise man. In this instance it is in place of the therapist, behind the patient lying on the couch, represented here by the flamingo, crumpled in a state of incongruence*, seeking the council of the idealised sage …”

Nah mate, I just threw some cuddly toys on a bed and painted.

Joking. I did actually place them in this configuration with intention, but it wasn’t cognitive/conscious. It was an image in my head. Interesting to reflect on this – I used to be so preoccupied with what something should mean and how to convey that meaning and what I wanted others to see, that I would have constant creative block and paint nothing at all. Perhaps this is a sign that I am in contact with my intuitive side a lot more and allowing myself to go with it, to hell with what others may think.

Maybe I did set it up to represent the therapist couch. Wouldn’t be too out there – I am a trainee counsellor, I have counselling.. . It has already been highlighted in therapy how ‘Oh, Brenda’ could be an external manifestation of my Self and she’s being taken on a journey; that I’m using a flamingo to express something… really, I’m not sure but let’s ‘go with that’ as they say.

Anyway, glad to have moments where I can let go of the worry and just paint what I see. What a release to get this image onto canvas. This picture is exactly what I wanted to paint and I didn’t stop to ask why, I just did. It sits right with me – that Christmas eve feeling again.

That I can now put something highly subjective out there and risk/tolerate being misunderstood is quite an achievement for me, an over-explainer. (Yes, I know I’m explaining it now, shush!)

*Next time I’m anxious, I will say I am crumpled in a state of incongruence rather than anxious because incongruence is a relevant term for my studies, and crumpled is just an excellent word.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so out of control that you have to transform your life. Someday you’re gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You’ll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing.”

Elizabeth Gilbert – Eat, Pray, Love.

It will be too complicated to go back and record every tiny insight and discovery in the order in which they occurred, so I start with what appeared to be the turning point for me.

B occasionally uses Focusing and Somatic/Sensorimotor psychotherapy in our work. It has given me a way of visualising my emotions and create some separation from them; to observe them rather that become caught up in them.

The above is a diagram of what I described to B.

The blue felt like a radiating outwards from the centre of my chest, becoming a darker tone as it reached the edges. The red felt like a box around my shoulders and was fairly rigid but with some vibration.

I experienced the blue when B didn’t respond to my email. I experience the red when at work and trying to get on with life. I didn’t recognise these bodily sensations before but can now relate them to specific feelings I get in certain situations, feelings that are difficult to label as emotions.

The blue represents the ‘bad’ parts I’ve disowned, the needy child parts I dislike so much, the wounded and neglected parts. The needy child wants to reach out but I keep her contained. She’s trying to be free, to be seen, to feel special, understood, and cared for. But she feels ashamed, rejected, abandoned and disowned. So, when the needs occasionally escape, those feelings of shame, rejection and abandonment come along too. This convinces me that I have once again been rejected and abandoned, when I haven’t been. The feelings are fossils from the past, but they feel just as they did as a child.

Emotional reasoning – ‘I feel this so it must be true’.

Emotional flashback – unprocessed feelings from the past recur in response to a trigger.

To avoid feeling ashamed, I lock the needs away in the red box, or the ‘Okay Child’.

The Okay Child doesn’t need anything from anyone. She doesn’t want to upset or burden anyone or make them angry at her. If Needy Child comes out she will worry and upset others, so Okay Child keeps her locked away for the sake of others.

Needs are strong. Okay Child can be overwhelmed and fail at times, and Needy Child escapes. She’s outside and taking risks and is no longer fully protected. She’s afraid and sees abandonment and rejection EVERYWHERE, even the smallest flicker of a facial expression. This brings back the emotions as strong as they were originally. This hurts so much. I wish everyone could experience the strength of these feelings for just one minute.

The Okay Child wants to keep Needy Child contained because the needs of Needy Child drive others away (she believes). Okay Child thinks Needy Child is stupid and ruins everything.

They are in constant conflict, minute by minute.

I want to love and be loved. But I’m afraid of the risk, afraid of asking for help. The container keeps the safe distance.

I want connection but fear it. Connection can be broken. Needy Child can break it, and then how do I feel? Ashamed, at fault, there’s something wrong with me. I know that if I connect and something goes wrong (or even if I just perceive it has gone wrong) I will blame myself and feels those feelings of rejection again. Needy Child is hypervigilant due to fear of abandonment, so will see signs of it where it doesn’t exist.

Self-fulfilling prophecy. I produce the very situation that can be interpreted as abandonment. This reinforces the core beliefs within the Needy Child. And the cycle continues.

The Container

Idealises others.
Self-hating.
Fantasy of ideal self.

The Conflict

Seek proximity – keep distance.
Feel like a fraud – self-alienation.
Resentful – I can’t be myself!
Self-doubt.

I have unmet needs and urge to connect. But there is fear and shame attached to needing and reaching out to others.

This work with B, in just one session, allowed me to connect to my bodily feelings in order to make sense of what I was experiencing when I couldn’t find the words.

“We become walking dualities – the containing versus the contained.” – https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/healing-complex-trauma-part-i-path-to-self-awareness-0119164
I found this article my Jeremy McAllister so helpful. It describes the experience of complex PTSD so perfectly.

My container was conditioned to protect my sensitive parts. The container keeps me separate from others as well as myself, from fully experiencing those feelings that are tied up with my contained self. The container expects pain. The contained is too sensitive, stuck in the past.

It’s difficult to say anything about the current situation, what with all the geopolitical analysis and brave journalists providing insight into what’s happening. I have nothing to add as I’m always the idealist and these issues perplex me. And it doesn’t feel right in some way, to express fear and distress from the safety of my home, in an open and democratic country (even if that is being systematically degraded by a bunch of Tory pricks. What an embarrassment.)

I admire those who are finding practical ways to help and are getting on with the doing. I know it’s important that we all look at what is within our control and to focus on doing that. For me, that has been donating to the Ukraine appeal and looking for opportunities to volunteer to help sort and pack supplies. And share information via social media – anything that might help those in Ukraine, and hopefully reach those in Russia so that they can know the truth.

I know many people feel guilty for feeling anything pleasurable while our TVs are filled with so much needless suffering. Like many, I feel bad that I can’t do more. I feel ashamed at our inebt government, and in complete admiration of the people of Ukraine and Poland, and other countries stepping up in every way they can.

Beyond the practical and the realities of what is happening – and how little of it feels real at the moment – I get caught up in the big existential thoughts of just how ridiculous it all is. Perhaps I’m sheltered and naive, but of course most or all would agree that this invasion of Ukraine by the Russians is beyond any rational explanation. The timing, the endgame, the lies and propaganda. And for what?

We’ve just been through a global pandemic where humans have shown they can create vaccines, find effective treatments, save lives! And now look. Families are dying for lies, for one man’s pride. One man! So many people on this planet, yet one man can create all of this. Families have been shot trying to flee, to just be safe. That’s all they wanted.

I can’t bare it. But I can’t despair. I am lucky and have freedom act. I am mindful to appreciate this every day and to make the most of it.

But tonight I just need a space to express this frustration.

I’m so grateful for everything I have. I wish there was more I could do. I am angry that the fate of people comes down to a handful of men. I’m angry that we’re not beyond this. I am angry that we don’t recognise that all any of us has is the earth, that we’re all going to die, so surviving and dying is what it all comes down to so why not do it as best we can, peacefully and together!

After Covid and Afghanistan and now this, anything seems possible, the good and horrendous.

And I am GLOWING.

I can’t believe I painted this. I’m so excited to paint. It gives me such energy, awe, excitement. So much.