Being on your own for the first time is difficult under any circumstances. Add unresolved internal conflict, trauma, low self-esteem and hopelessness into the mix, and you’re left with this feeling of impending doom, like the whole world is against you.

When you live your whole life under the impression that there is no help, made to believe that you can’t ask for help and that you’re all alone in the way you’re feeling, you grow up falsely thinking you can’t count on or trust anyone. That sentiment to an extent is true, everyone should rely on themselves and love themselves before they do the same to anyone else. However, and this took me a long time to learn, there is nothing wrong with reaching out when things become a bit too heavy to carry alone, it shouldn’t feel embarrassing. Unfortunately, when it comes to professional assistance, it’s not as accessible as I wish it was.

I was lucky enough to be given the chance to fix myself and do some well-needed healing. I was also fortunate that I found the right match to guide me. My therapy journey didn’t start off as a fairy tale. At that time, I was only a shadow of myself, probably at the lowest point in my life. Depression enveloped me in such a way, I thought there was only one way this would end, and that is if I ended. When the opportunity was presented to me, I was sceptical. I didn’t believe anything could fix me, that I was too far gone. I made it clear in my first session that I didn’t think this would work, that this was my last resort, and if this didn’t work, nothing would, so I would give up trying and let the story play itself out whatever the outcome may be.

In my first few meets, I was a broken shell of a person. So engrossed in the unfair way life treated me, so disappointed in the cards I’d been dealt, I was wondering whether it was me who was the bad guy and deserved every bad thing that happened to me. Every time my therapist would ask to describe myself, I couldn’t come up with anything positive. She would push for me to think of even one good quality I may have, but nothing came to mind. I used examples that other people said to me, how kind and helpful I am, although I didn’t believe when they would say things like that to me.

Over the first few months, there was an awful lot of internal resistance. All those survival tactics and coping mechanisms I learnt as a child that were once helpful but later became a nuisance, were still hard-wired in my brain. They would try to protect me from “danger” that just wasn’t present anymore which created a very unhealthy mental environment. I would lie if I said it didn’t get worse before it got better. But eventually, the part of my brain that wanted to stay alive and be happy took over and I started opening up more and more. I was co-operating because that part knew I had to in order to heal. Slowly but surely, with the guidance of who I can only describe as my saviour, I started putting the puzzle pieces together, re-wire what needed to be re-wired, and work through all those past events that somehow crept into my everyday life as an adult and put them in the archives.

By the second half of the journey, I learnt some new skills. I started using all those helpful tools that I was given to meet new challenges head first. Things still weren’t easy. But I didn’t want to harm myself anymore. I didn’t hate myself anymore. I stopped thinking any bad thing happening was my fault. After a while, I started looking at myself through a different lens. I started seeing the positive qualities that I have, the good that I bring to this world. The resistance completely faded. I gave myself away to the possibility of being okay again, more than okay in fact. The last few sessions were filled with self-reflection and sorting through the missing pieces, tying up the loose ends.

As I sit here right now a few days after my last session, I feel proud of myself. I’m not thinking for one second that I will never feel low again. I also know this road wasn’t an easy one. But what I do know is now that I’ve seen what life can be, I don’t ever want to go back to that dark place again. I feel hopeful for the future and I’m ready for any obstacles that may come, because I owe it to all those younger versions of myself who suffered a great deal thinking there is no way out.

I also understand that therapy and counselling is not for everyone, some people find other things more helpful. But I felt it important to share this as a beacon of hope. That when you feel like there’s no escape, when you feel like the world is about to end, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel, you just have to work your way through it. I’m sharing my journey with the hope that someone will read it and feel encouraged to seek help or even just feel like they’re not alone. That someone else understands. Because sometimes someone else telling us they get it can keep us going at least a little bit longer until we find the right path forward.