My Personal Story

I only dropped my phone could be the famous words… 

I dropped my phone and it seemed that the world had ended or someone close to me had died…the tears started… the thoughts, I can’t cope with life. 

It lead to my best friend telling me I needed to speak to someone. I’d had ‘a moment’ a couple of weeks before where I couldn’t stop crying. I guess one smile tells a millions story’s…It’s what’s hidden behind it. Therefore when my phone dropped out of my hand, smashed and broke that was the final straw. My best fiend guided me to a website where I searched for a therapist. 

Combined with, talking, questioning, emdr etc. 

Seeing my therapist every week for 5 months was worth every penny. It sure helped me. The funny things is, we never spoke about the first reason I wanted to chat about. It was deeper than that, and went further back. Unpacking those unopened boxes trapped in your head, realising and breaking those life cycles. I used to be ashamed of telling people I saw a therapist every week. 

Once I knew it was helping me, boy was I proud. I was proud that I was looking after myself, putting myself first, and striving to be a better version of myself every day. 

It was a long road, lots of tears, hidden memories surfacing. I wouldn’t say I am cured, your mental health has peaks and troughs. But the work I put in during those sessions, I’ve become more able to understand myself, know helpful strategies and know I can always go back if needed. 

All it takes is a phone to drop, or an Easter egg to smash (another story), for you to have ‘a moment’. 

This is OK! My advice would be to talk to someone about it, get that help you deserve and watch yourself grow. 

On another note; We never know what the person next to us is going through, so in a world where you can be anything, be kind. 

From CT.