Mental Millennial - Part 3

Part 3

Barry was tall, slim, wore chinos, a light blue shirt and a grey tweed jacket.

He appeared from a door behind the reception desk quite suddenly. Three fast strides and he stood in front me smiling.

"You must be Tim!"

And then came a series of explanation and questions:

We'll just go through those doors there.

And how was your day?

And just down that corridor...

Did you find somewhere to park?

Aha! I think we'll be in one of these rooms around that corner!

You must be nervous!

Okay, we're just through that one there.

Number 8. Okay!

After you. Sit wherever you like. Ah, yes, good choice!

Is the window open okay, or too chilly? Anyway, just say if it gets too cold and we'll pop it closed!

I smiled. Sort of.

He was too keen. I couldn't work out which way this was going. Was this part of the make-the-patient-feel-at-ease training given to NHS therapists? Somehow, it didn't seem like his natural disposition. I got the sense he was probably far more introverted in normal life. And this small room - white as white - with two identically bland chairs and a table; a plastic plant and box of tissues. I guess ready for when I cried.

brilliant

"So, we just need to start with some safeguarding questions. Is that okay?"

Yes sure. I didn't think I was a risk to anyone else?

Staring at his laptop for the questions, presumably carefully crafted to illicit the right types of response.

"Do you feel like you want to end your life? Have you had thoughts of harming yourself or those around you? And do you feel life is worth living?"

He stared at me, eyebrows raised. For him: business as usual.

I replied.

"Okay, thank you."

And the warm up questions went on for 10 minutes.

So what's brought you here today? Tell me about what you're experiencing.

I talked about having to go home from work, feeling overwhelmed and crying every day.

It was hard to get through. I had to take my time. Just recounting it all made me want to shout and scream and cry all at once.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????

But that wasn't going to help. So I continued to answer his questions and listen to his explanations about what I should expect over the next few months.

40 minutes later it was all over. Nothing magic or revolutionary had happened. I don't think there had even been any therapy from what I could tell. It was a finding out session for me and for him.

Having said that, I guess the therapeutic part was hearing myself answer his questions; needing to explain myself to someone I did not know and who did not know me, in the knowledge that this person genuinely had my best interests in mind and wanted to see me progress as much as I did. That was reassuring in itself and was the main thing I took from that first session.

Back in the lift 40 minutes later, doors pinging open into the foyer and out onto the street.

I felt sick and empty and vulnerable. But glad I'd got through the door for this first milestone.

Read Mental Millenial Part 2