Counselling Services: Find your courage

I could not for the life of me figure out how to start this article. I don’t know if that is because this is the first real article I’ve ever written, or because I am a terrible writer in general, or if because, even more than a year after my first visit, I still have a stigma about having gone to see counselling services. It is most likely a combination of numbers 2 and 3, but regardless, here we are now, 82 words in and the article officially started; there’s no going back.

I am writing this article with two main purposes. First is to help reduce the stigma around counselling services, even if just by you knowing one more person who has used them. And more importantly, to hopefully help you find the courage to go and seek help when you need it, even if you yourself have that stigma.

I had been feeling crappy for a few weeks straight. I use the word crappy as that was the only way I could describe it to the counsellor back then too. There was nothing I was particularly mad or sad about, I just felt like crap. I think after about a week of feeling all around crappy, I started to think about seeing counselling services. Just as soon as I started to have that thought, so too did I start to have all of the thoughts come to my head from my own stigma around counselling. They ranged from “I don’t actually need help” to “counselling is for crazy people,” with just about everything else in between. There was also the worry of ANYONE I knew finding out, and thinking less of me, or god forbid questioning my ability as EngSoc President.

I let the stigma drown out my own desires for help for probably two weeks, until I found my courage. One morning I got to campus, as I normally do. I went to go to the Tim Horton’s in South Campus Hall and there was a long line, as there normally is. On that particular morning I wasn’t going to wait, so I decided to walk to the Tim’s in the SLC with the hopes of a shorter line. After my encounter with the SLC Tim’s (I believe it ended badly) I started to head back. I don’t recall exactly what went through my head, but it was probably along the lines of “I am on this side of campus anyway, let’s just go see what’s up there.”

I walked up to Counselling Services (Needles Hall Room 2080), my body already starting to overheat from nerves, and asked to see a counsellor. I was told there was an appointment available in approximately 2 hours, as there had been a cancellation. Great, I’ll take it. I go to sit in the waiting area, and the receptionist informs me that I can go and come back if I wish. I tell her no thank you, I will just stay. I do that because it took nearly everything I had to walk into that room the first time, and I was worried that I wouldn’t have the strength to do it again.

The whole time I am waiting, the different stigmas keep flying into my head. Luckily, one thought overpowered them all; “I am not happy.” That is the thought that drove me there in the first place, and that is the thought that kept me there. When the time came for my appointment, I went in, sat, and talked for an hour. We went through what’s happening in my life, why I might be feeling this way, and various actions I could take to try to improve my “crappiness.” The hour went by, with me being skeptical and my body hot the whole time, and we made an appointment to see each other again.

I would be lying if I told you that I felt immediate relief upon leaving that room. In all honesty, I felt worse. The walk from Needles Hall to CPH felt like one of the longest of my life, with a weight on my eyes the entire time. That’s when I called my sister, and told her I had gone to see counselling services. I am almost certain I told my sister on the phone that I wasn’t crazy, but she knew that. She listened, told me she was happy that I went to get help, and that she loves me. And there it was, the heavy weight lifted from me, and that relief I had wanted for weeks finally starting to arrive. Even after having gone to counselling services, my own stigmas about it were stronger than my sisters, and preventing the counselling from actually being able to help me. I am forever grateful to my sister for that conversation. For me, having someone know I went, and accepting me with that, meant a lot. That might not be necessary for you, I am only highlighting it as something to keep an eye out for, so you don’t write off counselling if you are in a similar situation.

Even at that point, as I started to feel relieved, better about my whole situation, I was worried. I had seen counselling, and made an appointment to go again, did that mean I was going to have a weekly appointment for the rest of my life? It doesn’t, of course. I went to see counselling for two or three more weeks, and then I felt much better, and decided I didn’t really need to go anymore. The counsellor was supportive of that decision, and we agreed that if I ever needed an appointment again, I would just book one.

There wasn’t anything magical about counselling services. I didn’t do most of the exercises they recommended, again because of my own stigma and skepticism. Although to my surprise the couple I attempted did work. I only went for three sessions. But even with that, I cannot emphasize enough how much it helped me. There is something to be said for someone that is just there to listen, to provide support, and that doesn’t pass judgement.

I have gone back to counselling since, at a time in my life when it felt I was losing control of it. That time was much easier for me. I implore you, if you do ever feel like you need counselling, if your life is stuck in a rut, or if you just feel like crap, do please go and see counselling services. You can go to Needles Hall or the Engineering First Year Office (CPH 1320). I promise you, the hardest part is getting yourself to that first appointment.

I hope if the time comes that you do decide you want counselling, that you find the courage to go. And if there is anyone in that situation right now, trying to find the courage to get in that seat; remember, my courage was a long Tim Horton’s line, let this article serve as yours. But if you can’t that’s fine, let me know; I have been to Needles Hall, I can walk you there.