Journal

We soften death with careful language. "Passed." "Loss." "Sorry for your loss." But does wrapping grief in gentler words make it easier to carry, or does it quietly ask people to be gentler about something that is not gentle at all?

This one came from my supervisor. I was working with a client who was carrying a lot of anger, the kind that sits in your chest and has nowhere to go. My supervisor suggested something so simple I almost dismissed it. But it works. It is called the sh*t bag. Photo by With Mahdy You take a paper bag, any paper bag, and you keep it somewhere accessible. When something hits you, a feeling, a thought, a moment of anger or sadness or frustration that feels too big to just sit with

There are losses that do not get recognised. The end of a friendship. A career that fell apart. Children leaving home. These losses are real and can be just as heavy as bereavement. But because nobody died, people are often left wondering whether they are allowed to grieve at all.

Someone asks how you are. You say yeah, fine. You say it quickly, automatically, without thinking. But maybe fine has become the word you use when the truth feels too complicated or too heavy for a conversation in a corridor.

People arrive at counselling with different expectations. Some expect to feel better quickly. Some expect to be told what to do. I think it is worth being honest about what counselling can offer and where its limits are.

You leave one relationship and eventually start another. It feels different at first. But over time the same things start happening. The same arguments. The same distance. The same feeling of not being heard or not being enough. It is easy to blame the other person. Sometimes that is fair. But when the same dynamic keeps showing up with different people, it is worth asking what else might be going on. What relationship patterns look like Patterns in relationships are not alwa

You can have a partner, a family, a full diary, and still feel like nobody really knows you. Loneliness is not about how many people are in your life. It is about how seen you feel by them. This kind of loneliness is harder to name because from the outside your life looks full.

A lot of people are sceptical about online counselling. They think something important gets lost through a screen. Having worked with clients online for a while now, I can say honestly that it works. Not in the same way as in person. But it works.

There is a common belief that counselling is for people who are falling apart. It is not true. But it stops a lot of people from picking up the phone. Most people I work with did not contact me at their lowest point. They spent a long time telling themselves it was not bad enough.

There is a lot of support for people who have been left. But if you are the one who ended it, people assume you are fine. Leaving is still a loss. You can feel relieved and devastated at the same time. This post is about the grief, guilt and confusion that comes with being the one who walked away.

Most people do not come to counselling and say they want to talk about shame. They come because they are anxious, or stuck, or their relationship is struggling. But when we look at what is underneath, shame is often there. Quietly running things from the background.

Most people sit with the idea of counselling for weeks before they reach out. The not knowing is often the thing that keeps them stuck. This post walks through what actually happens when you contact me for the first time, from the first message to the intro call to the first proper session. Keywords: contact a counsellor, first counselling session, what to expect from counselling, counselling in Kent

Many people ask whether monthly counselling is enough. While it can work in some situations, spacing sessions too far apart often slows progress. Real change tends to build through rhythm, consistency, and repeated conversations. Weekly sessions allow patterns to emerge, trust to develop, and deeper work to take hold over time.

I do not ask you to think positively or love yourself on days when that feels impossible. Counselling for low mood starts where you actually are.

Retirement is often framed as something to look forward to, but it is also a significant ending. When work stops, identity, routine, and relationships can shift in unexpected ways. People may feel unsettled, flat, or unsure of their place, especially at home. Counselling can offer space to talk honestly about this transition, without pressure to feel grateful or have everything figured out.

Many men arrive at counselling later than they would like. Not because things are fine, but because asking for help has never felt straightforward. By the time they reach out, something has often been carried alone for a long time. Counselling can offer space to speak honestly, without judgement, pressure, or needing to have the right words.

Most people do not arrive at counselling quickly. By the time someone books a first session, they have often been sitting with the idea for months or years. They tell themselves they are coping, that it is not serious enough, that now is not the right time. Waiting is rarely avoidance. It is often a way of protecting yourself until you feel ready enough to be honest. Counselling can offer a place to pause and say things out loud without needing to have it all worked out.

Grief is rarely what people expect. It is not always sadness or tears. It can show up as numbness, guilt, relief, or a sense of disconnection. During my placement at Hospice in the Weald, I worked with family members and carers, some bereaved, others living with the knowledge that someone they loved was dying. As Lois Tonkin describes, grief does not shrink. Life grows around it. Counselling can help you carry it with less isolation.