Counselling

Hey, I was right. Double post!

I haven't managed to write in a while about how I've been dealing with my mental health.
To be honest, until recently, the words haven't really been there.

At the beginning of March, I started counselling, to see if it would help with my anxiety.

I'm not altogether sure if it's helped.

The counselling I've been having is supposed to be more patient led, which was odd to get used to. My therapist (I'm pretty sure her title is counsellor, but it doesn't look right when I type it. I'll just call her Ruth) is a lovely woman, who's been very attentive, and has listened to a small fraction of the crap than runs through my head.

Mostly, the last four weeks or so have been about looking at my relationships with people, and trying to extract myself from as many issues, that aren't my issues, as possible.
Bible sis's relationship with my aunts, following my grandfather's funeral. Sad, but not mine to fix.
Lil Monster and Bible sis's relationship. Upsetting, but my job is to listen. Bible Sis, as the older sister, should be in the main position to fix it.
Lil Monster and her reluctance to spend time with her dad. I'm here as a sounding board, but I can't fix it.
I suppose, in that regard, it has helped. We describe it as spilling the contents of my mind on the floor, and choosing a small section of it to clear up. Some things are clearer.

But other things aren't. I guess I feel like bigger things haven't been sorted through yet.
I suppose, despite knowing that it's not how counselling works, I was hoping to feel fixed.

I don't. My mind still races, near constantly. I still get stressed out over everything, and it still has a tendency to make me feel as though I'm being tied in knots over it all.
I still feel like I'm not doing a good enough job, looking after Wheelz.
I still feel like Lil Monster deserves a better older sister than me.
I still feel like Bible Sis and I will never truly get along, because neither of us wants to address the giant neon elephant in the room.
I still feel like my dad is disappointed in me and my life choices.

I guess a six week block of counselling isn't quite enough to deal with all of that.

I am grateful to Ruth, though. I've been able to talk some things through with her, clear my head over them, tidy them away a bit.
I suppose it's just a case of remembering that mental health isn't an easy fix. There's every chance that I will live with anxiety and depression for the rest of my life.

It's just a case of taking the help I can get with them, whenever I can.