‘I really don’t want to go poking around in my past, it will only cause more upset and harm, and I can’t see the point of it. Plus I’m too old and it’s too late now’.

(Always my favourite excuse that one)

This is me, talking to my eldest daughter; a therapy advocate and relatively recently diagnosed ADHD’er.

‘But mum, you’re missing the point of it. It’s not about ‘fixing’ things, it’s about making peace with your past so you can move forwards’.

Such wisdom on such young shoulders.

After tossing this thought around in my mind for some days, maybe weeks, I came to the conclusion that she was probably onto something. We are often the most resistant to the things we know are good for us. I have a long list of ‘good things’ which I’m slowly trying to tick off; giving up smoking was the first victory 10 years ago now. Sometimes I can use this list of things I should do as a procrastination for the things I really NEED to do.

Which brings me back to therapy.

She came highly recommended via a trusted close friend, so the chances of us hitting it off were probably better than a random Google search. I wasn’t disappointed. I can still remember our first ‘walk and talk’ session. I rocked up to our meeting point, unsure of what I should be wearing to make a ‘good first impression’. Typical of me as an empath with sky-high RSD (rejection sensitivity dysphoria). How exactly should I dress to appear both perfectly sane, but also with the right sprinkling of ‘slightly unhinged’ to make our meeting seem worthwhile?

In the end I opted for my usual mix of Sweaty Betty’s finest leggings, trainers and a hoody. Normal as you like. I needn’t have worried – she was dressed almost exactly the same. Approachable but not unprofessional. I don’t know what I was expecting the dress code to be for a therapy session. Business suit and heels? I would have run a mile.

That first hour was like popping a champagne cork. I don’t think I quite realised just how close to the surface I held my emotions. We were only about 3 scene-setting questions in when the cork popped, and the flow of bubbles started gushing out uncontrollably. My words tumbled out thick and fast. It seemed as though I wanted to get my whole life story out as quickly as I could in case it had an expiry date. It was almost an out of body experience listening to my voice as I desperately tried to hang onto my composure.

I can’t remember the specific question that started the tears flowing, but its force hit me like a side swipe from a pro boxer. It completely floored me.

And that was exactly what I needed.

The thing I had been most worried about had just happened. And I’d met my nemesis with surprising bravery. I had been so scared of this conversation. But once I had started unpacking some of my demons, it seemed like I didn’t know how to stop.

That first walk through the autumnal fields surrounding the old psychiatric hospital that had been home to my mum for so many months after I was born felt like a full circle moment. The irony of choosing a therapist who happened to use that particular location for her walk and talk sessions was not lost on me. Maybe it was meant to be this way.

Therapy is like standing on a precipice, staring into the abyss. You have no idea what you might find down there. Having spent my entire life modelling the very behaviour I was trying to escape – avoidance of anything vaguely emotionally uncomfortable or confronting – I was at last beginning to cast an eye to the past. Albeit a very squinty eye; a bit like watching a horror movie from behind the safety of a cushion.

I had expected something horrendous to happen at this first session. I had built the whole thing up in my mind like some kind of awful Pandora’s Box. The funny thing was, nothing bad actually happened; the ground didn’t open up and swallow me whole in a blazing inferno of furious rage. Quite the opposite. I felt a sense of lightness and calm that was totally new to me. I wouldn’t call it peace, not yet; that was going to cost me a lot more – both emotionally and in cold hard cash – than a single hour of therapy.

But we had made a start.

Sending love and light to those who need it today.

Sara x