Counselling

Did not really sleep again.  I think I was anxious about counselling and how a profession would judge me for being a trusting moron.
And I still spend a lot of the night trying to find ways that Shitlord is somehow still a good person.
So helpful, brain.


Got up and had showered before my early alarm even went off.  So pottered at home a bit before heading to the appointment.
I got there more than 20 minutes early, so a bunch of awkward waiting with the other sad people.


Session went pretty well.  The guys accent forces me to pay attention or I lose what he is saying entirely.  But we talked.  I tried to explain the relationship I was in and had another professional suggest it was indeed abusive.  Which is a mixed blessing.
Makes my confidence that it wasn't all the more frustrating.


I need to be better at listening to my friends.  Much better at it.
Counsellor gave me the homework of trying to make sure I eat and sleep, sensible amounts at sensible times.  And pamphlets of ways to stop unhelpful thinking.
And questioned what I would do with overly bleak thoughts.
I cried too much, and the session went rather over time because of it.




Now I have to work on my essay, as I rejected the counsellor's offer of a medical certificate to get an extension.  I am not going to my lecturer and asking "can I please have an extension because I am sad".