Five more weeks of appointments went by.
Wherever possible, I booked each week’s appointment for Friday afternoons as a good way to end the working week.
At the time I often walked home across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and on Fridays I also had dinner at a favourite restaurant on the way home, so combining the three activities became an especially good way to end those five weeks.
And as each week passed, I felt better.
I talked to the psychologist about problems I was still having, but increasingly it was about progress I was making. A few times he also gave me worksheets to complete, and they were also a big help.
Most of all, though, I took away the sound of his calming and reassuring voice, and what he told me to do whenever I encountered a new problem: acknowledge it and then move on by asking myself what should I do to resolve it.
To this day whenever I do that, I don’t picture myself sitting there and saying it to myself. Instead, the image that always comes to my mind is the psychologist saying those words.
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Eventually, like all good things, my six visits to the psychologist came to an end.
On one hand it was a shame because I had enjoyed them and found them incredibly helpful, especially after that rotten experience down in Canberra.
On the other hand, though, I had to continue making progress by myself.
And I did.
As I have written at Black and Blue Man several times before, my life changed dramatically from mid-2007 onwards after I began seeing my psychiatrist and taking medication. Part of that journey began a year before, though, with the six visits to the psychologist, when I discovered just how helpful therapy could be.
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Not long after I completed my six visits, I finished that work from Canberra. I wrote some documents, submitted them for review to the first SME, and eventually he reviewed them. And that was that.
Years passed. At work I relocated to two other locations before returning to North Sydney, where I found that the building where the psychologist’s office had been had been converted to apartments and his office was now a convenience store.
In late 2010 I was working at yet another location when my desk was reassigned and it was agreed that I could work from home. One night I was cleaning out my desk to prepare for the move home, and amongst the years of old files I had acquired I was both surprised and delighted to find that I still had those worksheets I had completed for the psychologist. A lot of those old files I threw out, but I decided to keep those worksheets. I still have them.
Until next time, stay well and take care 🙂
Black and Blue Man 