“That was a lot. Look how many notes I made,” she said, in awe, scrolling through them.

It didn’t look like a whole lot to me, but then again most people make notes when they’re having conversations with me. Which honestly, I kind of prefer because I hate having to repeat things. And also talking and making sense for a lot of hours a day is kind of a struggle still after long covid, so having to repeat things within that takes more energy that I don’t have.

What we had covered had barely scratched the surface, and it was maybe 3% of my actual problems, in not very much detail because we didn’t have time. I’d consciously Cliff Notes’d them and stayed very on topic. I knew that not enough time would be the case before we started, but I figure that even though longer would be better from my perspective, they most likely need a break from me.

(I always answer the ice breaker/business question of, “what could you talk about for 30 minutes?” with “nothing,” because I am incapable of talking for such a short amount of time).

I am trying therapy again.

Not because I think it will help any more than talking to anyone else, but because I’m effectively naughty stepping myself. Tired of my own shit. Watching myself make bad personal decisions for literally no reason.

Therapy is my chosen punishment, because while it’s great for a lot of people, it fundamentally doesn’t help me and I already know this. But one thing no one can ever accuse me of is not trying, because not only will I flog a dead horse, I’ll flog the whole damn farm.

This may sound like I’m deliberately being resistant/awkward, but it’s setting realistic expectations. I’ve been told many times by professionals that they can’t help me, some in kinder ways than others, in a wide range of contexts. And I have no evidence to the contrary, honestly. There are two types: people who think they can help me and can’t, and people who know they can’t help me. Someone told me once, “I’m not qualified to deal with you.” At least they were self-aware and honest, I guess.

After many years of trial and error I’ve figured out that the things that do actually help me are things that tap into my weaknesses enough for me to be attracted to them but are redirected in healthier ways. Which means that due to my biological makeup I’m sometimes living in a space where the problem is also the cure, and I’m always living in a space that requires constant conscious balance on a cliff edge.

Last week, I fell off the cliff. Actually, that’s not true. I happily jumped off the cliff. And I still couldn’t really tell you why.

(I didn’t mention any of this, because I didn’t want to be too much right away or have her feel like I was shitting on her profession. Like I said, therapy is great for a lot of people who aren’t me).

“Do you have WhatsApp?” she’d asked me as I’d sat down.

A wry smile from me. Ironically, I was there because of WhatsApp.

“Actually I just uninstalled it,” I replied. (True). “I’m trying to spend less time on my phone.” (Not true).

She asked me what I did for a living. I briefly considered the past week, which had involved exorcisms, drug dealers, a well-known natural dog food company and professional footballers, and decided to keep it general.

She asked me why I’d decided to book a session. With slightly raised eyebrows, because I’d booked it at very short notice. I was impressed, actually, that they had such short notice sessions available, but then we are in a poor city and the cost of a 50 minute session is genuinely a lot of people’s food budget for a week.

Interestingly (to myself, because what comes out of my mouth happens with little to no thinking involved), I didn’t go into the specific short-term reason. It wasn’t the right time, because it didn’t actually make sense without also explaining years of context. And honestly, those explanations would only go so far anyway; a small part of me didn’t want to be judged harshly by someone I’d only just met.

So I stepped back from it further. I have made the mistake before of telling therapists individual anecdotes, and they have then looked forward to being entertained by various things in my life as if it’s some kind of ongoing reality podcast rather than actually trying to help me. (I’m not against it in theory, but they should be paying me if that’s what we’re doing).

At the end of the session, she told me a bunch of things I already know, which is the best I expect because it means we’re on the same page and she’s definitely listening to me. It also went some way towards mitigating my dislike? concern? of her using the phrase “a lot,” which is not a phrase I like (unless it’s in relation to food).

I’m fully aware I’m a lot, and trust me you’re getting a much milder and more restrained version than the one I have to carry around 24/7. “A lot” usually means, “I can’t cope with/handle this,” and if you’re thinking that at such an early stage, you’re not going to be able to deal with the rest. (This also applies in a work-based context, I am always a hawk for this phrase because it means I’ve made a bad hire or need to redistribute some tasks or the customer needs different help/some reassurance).

It’s also why I don’t actually open up to anyone about personal things, because it ends up being very heavy and there isn’t really anything to be said in response and then I just think “why did I put all that on someone for no benefit to anyone?” As, if anything, it makes me feel worse because I’ve dragged them into the vortex with me.

Plus, I have people relying on me to show up and lead every single day. It’s completely non-negotiable that I do that. I worked at a place once that was super chaotically toxic because it came from the top down, and it was just awful for everyone. (I know that all the people I’ve worked for had have different issues, but they were better at hiding them, honestly, and most people didn’t notice).

The way I approach things work-wise is different. We have mental health days, which are paid days separate from annual leave and referred to as “personal days” because they can be used for anything personal, including random tradespeople appointments or catching up on life. I never put my shit on the team but I’m there to listen to them and care about what they need. I also don’t put myself on a pedestal. I am honest without going into any details, so my team knows I understand and empathise. “I don’t win every day,” is one of my favourite phrases. The battle against myself is endless. And honestly, I think it makes people feel better to remember that their bad day is also not a bad life and future success is always possible, even if it’s not success today.

She was keen to hear that I was leaving the session feeling positive, so I told her I was. She knew by that point that I’m a chronic people-pleaser so I’m not sure why she even asked. It was the only possible answer.