(no subject)
Ugh, had a bit of a crap day today. Went for counselling cos of my 'issues'. Given the nature of the NHS and my financial situation, i.e. I can't afford private therapy, I've had to wait since May for an appointment. Anyway, this is how it went (behind cut for those who don't want to read about my emotional fuckuppery.
OK, so I really thought I was doing ok. Those of you who know me know that I've had periods of depression since my marriage break up. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was depressed now, but I am suffering from low self-esteem again. This is nothing new for me. I've had a sense of being not good enough ever since I can remember. Those of you who are only children and the centre of their parents' world may recognise this. Anyway, blah blah, not going through all that again since I'm sure I've written about that and the subsequent effects of my unhappy marriage and the break up I went through.
It's suffice to say I have extreme insecurity issues. And I do mean extreme. I think I'm getting worse rather than better, so when the counsellor phoned to say she had an appointment for me, it couldn't really have come at a better time. I really do need to learn tools for coping with this and stop feeling that I'm unloveable, that I have to please people all the time so they'll like me etc etc.
Anyway, today was an introductory session, and so much different from my last counselling sessions three years ago. This seemed more professional somehow, and I got the impression that because of that, it's likely to be more effective. We went through stuff like my cloistered, over-protected childhood (puts on Viennese accent: "Zo, tell me about your father." Rubs beard in expectation), my experience of childbirth, my postnatal depression and the effect that had on my marriage etc etc. All in all, I laid myself bare completely, and it bloody well hurt.
Anyway, this afternoon I went to sign on. I can't wait to get back to work so I can actually earn some money and get my life back. What the state gives you to live on is just rubbish. Why does life have to suck?
OK, so I really thought I was doing ok. Those of you who know me know that I've had periods of depression since my marriage break up. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was depressed now, but I am suffering from low self-esteem again. This is nothing new for me. I've had a sense of being not good enough ever since I can remember. Those of you who are only children and the centre of their parents' world may recognise this. Anyway, blah blah, not going through all that again since I'm sure I've written about that and the subsequent effects of my unhappy marriage and the break up I went through.
It's suffice to say I have extreme insecurity issues. And I do mean extreme. I think I'm getting worse rather than better, so when the counsellor phoned to say she had an appointment for me, it couldn't really have come at a better time. I really do need to learn tools for coping with this and stop feeling that I'm unloveable, that I have to please people all the time so they'll like me etc etc.
Anyway, today was an introductory session, and so much different from my last counselling sessions three years ago. This seemed more professional somehow, and I got the impression that because of that, it's likely to be more effective. We went through stuff like my cloistered, over-protected childhood (puts on Viennese accent: "Zo, tell me about your father." Rubs beard in expectation), my experience of childbirth, my postnatal depression and the effect that had on my marriage etc etc. All in all, I laid myself bare completely, and it bloody well hurt.
Anyway, this afternoon I went to sign on. I can't wait to get back to work so I can actually earn some money and get my life back. What the state gives you to live on is just rubbish. Why does life have to suck?