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.
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.
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 🙂