Rhi Axtell – Writer

“Bloody hell, no wonder you’re anxious!”

I’m sitting in a cosy room at the back of a small garden when she says this – ‘she’ being my new counsellor. We are sat facing each other, both on black leather comfy chairs. I have a glass of water which I am cradling close to my chest. We have been talking for close to forty-five minutes – although most of the talking has been me – as I unload all my troubles and worries into the space between us. Even I’m surprised by the amount that I managed to draw up from my depths, how much anxiety-generating content I have to display. And the real problem is: this is our first session and I know I still have plenty more where that came from.

But it’s nice to have someone acknowledge it. Acknowledge that perhaps my troubles are not as made up as I thought they were. Giving me a safe space to sit with them, hold them up for inspection, and have someone say “Yeah that’s tough to deal with, isn’t it?”

That’s why I love counselling. It’s a supportive space. An encouraging space. The pressure has eased slightly because now when my jaw hurts from me clenching it so hard, I can take a breath, unclench, and tell myself: that feeling is valid. You’re carrying a lot.

I’m at the start of a new journey. A journey of kindness to myself – a concept which is easier on paper (or on blog screen) than in practice.

But I’m excited. Here’s to lowering anxiety!