The Exhausting Business of Comparing Ourselves to Everyone Else

When Depression Makes Counselling Feel Frustrating One of the most honest things clients say in counselling is: “I don’t think this is helping.” When someone is experiencing depression, that feeling can be especially strong. People may attend sessions, talk about their struggles, try different approaches, and still wake up feeling heavy, tired, or emotionally flat. From a counsellor’s perspective, this moment is very common in the therapeutic process. It is also often where some of the most important work begins. Depression Can Change How Progress Feels Depression does not only affect mood. It can influence how people perceive change, effort, and hope. People experiencing depression often describe: feeling stuck difficulty noticing positive changes low motivation emotional numbness frustration with themselves Even when small improvements are happening, depression can make them hard to recognise. Clients sometimes say things like: “I’m still struggling, so therapy must not be working.” “I thought I would feel better by now.” “I’m tired of talking about things.” These reactions are completely understandable. When someone is suffering, it is natural to want relief quickly. The Hidden Work of Therapy Counselling can sometimes feel slow because much of the work is internal and gradual. Changes often happen in subtle ways first: understanding patterns more clearly recognising emotional triggers learning to pause before reacting noticing thoughts rather than immediately believing them These shifts might not instantly remove depression, but they begin to change how someone relates to it. It can be a bit like learning a new language. At first, progress feels invisible. Then gradually, one day, you realise you understand more than you thought. Depression Often Affects Motivation Another challenge is that depression frequently drains energy and motivation. Tasks that once felt simple, such as getting out of bed, responding to messages, or going outside, can suddenly feel overwhelming. So when counselling asks someone to reflect, practise coping strategies, or make small changes in daily routines, it can feel exhausting. Clients sometimes interpret this as failure. “I’m not doing therapy properly.” From a counsellor’s perspective, this is not failure. It is often simply the reality of working through depression. The Importance of Talking About the Frustration One of the most valuable moments in therapy is when a client openly says: “I feel like this isn’t helping.” Rather than being a problem, this honesty allows the counselling relationship to deepen. It creates space to explore questions such as: What expectations did we have for therapy? What changes have we noticed, even if they are small? Are there different approaches that might help? Are there other supports that could be useful alongside counselling? Sometimes this conversation leads to adjusting the pace or focus of therapy. Sometimes it highlights progress that depression has made difficult to see. Therapy Is Not Always a Straight Line There is a common assumption that mental health recovery should follow a steady upward path. In reality it often looks more like progress in different directions. There may be forward steps, sideways steps, and occasional steps back. Periods where things feel stagnant or frustrating do not necessarily mean therapy is failing. Often they are part of working through complex emotional experiences. A Counsellor’s Perspective From the counselling chair, when someone says therapy is not working, it rarely means the work has been wasted. More often it means the person is: tired discouraged wanting relief unsure whether change is possible These feelings deserve attention and compassion. Depression can be very convincing when it tells someone that nothing will ever improve. Therapy is not about forcing change overnight. It is about gradually building understanding, resilience, and new ways of responding to life. A Final Thought If counselling feels frustrating during depression, it does not necessarily mean something is wrong with you or with the process. Sometimes it simply means you are in the middle of the work, not at the end of it. From a counsellor’s perspective, staying in that space and speaking honestly about the difficulty can be one of the bravest and most important steps someone takes toward healing.

Many people arrive in counselling with a quiet but painful question: “Why do I still feel affected by my parents?” They might have grown up with criticism, emotional distance, unpredictability, or a lack of support. Sometimes nothing dramatic happened, yet something still feels missing. When people begin exploring these experiences, they often feel conflicted. On one hand, they recognise that their upbringing affected them. On the other, they may feel guilty for even thinking this way. Books like It Didn't Start With You by Mark Wolynn explore how emotional patterns and unresolved pain can travel across generations. The idea is that many struggles we experience today may have roots not only in our childhood, but sometimes in the experiences of our parents and even earlier generations. Understanding this can be both confronting and relieving. When Parents Don’t Meet Our Needs Parents are often expected to provide safety, guidance, and emotional support. But in reality, many parents are raising children while carrying their own unresolved struggles. They may have experienced: trauma loss poverty or instability emotionally distant parenting themselves cultural or generational expectations about emotions Without support, these experiences can shape how someone parents their own children. This doesn’t mean harmful behaviour is acceptable. But it can help explain why some parents simply didn’t have the tools to offer what their children needed. The Question of Forgiveness When people reflect on difficult childhood experiences, the topic of forgiveness often comes up. Forgiveness, however, can be misunderstood. It doesn’t mean: pretending nothing happened excusing hurtful behaviour allowing harmful patterns to continue Instead, forgiveness can sometimes mean releasing the emotional hold the past has on the present. It may involve recognising that while our parents shaped us, they do not have to define the rest of our lives. For some people, forgiveness feels possible. For others, what matters more is acceptance and emotional distance. Both paths can be valid. Moving On Without Denying the Past Counselling often focuses on helping people acknowledge their experiences without being trapped by them. This can involve: recognising how childhood patterns influence adult relationships identifying beliefs formed early in life developing self-compassion creating healthier emotional boundaries Sometimes the most powerful shift comes from understanding that the story didn’t begin with you, but it can change with you. Patterns that have existed for generations can begin to shift when someone chooses to respond differently. Breaking the Cycle One of the most meaningful outcomes of this work is the opportunity to break cycles. People who reflect on their upbringing often become more intentional about: how they relate to others how they manage emotions how they communicate and set boundaries how they parent their own children In this way, exploring the past is not about blame. It’s about understanding. And from understanding comes the possibility of doing things differently. A Compassionate Perspective From a counselling perspective, it’s common to see people carrying guilt about feeling hurt by their parents. But acknowledging pain does not mean someone is ungrateful or disloyal. It simply means they are being honest about their experience. Books like It Didn’t Start With You remind us that many families carry invisible emotional histories. Understanding these histories can help people approach their past with more compassion — both for themselves and sometimes for the generations that came before them. The Opportunity to Choose We cannot change the families we were born into. But we can choose how we respond to what we’ve inherited. We can learn new ways of relating to ourselves and others. We can set boundaries where needed. And we can create different patterns moving forward. In many ways, healing is not about rewriting the past. It’s about recognising that the future does not have to repeat it.

If you have ever opened your phone to check one headline and somehow resurfaced 45 minutes later feeling tense, worried, and slightly doom-soaked, you are not alone. Recent global events, including military tensions such as the attack on Iran, can stir up a lot of emotion. Even when events are happening far away, our nervous systems do not always recognise distance. They simply register “threat” and switch on. As a counsellor, I have noticed more clients saying things like: “I feel on edge and I do not know why.” “I keep checking for updates.” “I feel guilty for carrying on with normal life.” “What if this escalates?” If that sounds familiar, take a breath. Nothing is wrong with you. You are responding like a human in an interconnected world. Here are some light but practical ways to stay grounded when global events feel heavy. 1. Create a News Container Instead of letting the news drip into your day at random, put it in a container. That might look like: Checking updates once in the morning and once in the evening Turning off push notifications Avoiding news scrolling in bed Your brain handles information better when it knows there is a boundary. Constant exposure keeps your nervous system on standby mode. A scheduled check-in gives you information without letting it take over. Think of it as sipping from the fire hose rather than standing underneath it. 2. Do a 60-Second Reality Check When anxiety spikes, pause and ask: Am I personally in immediate danger right now? Where am I? What can I see around me? Often, the answer is that you are at home, at work, or sitting with a cup of tea. Your body may feel like it is in crisis, but your environment is stable. This tiny grounding moment helps your nervous system recalibrate. 3. Move Your Body to Move the Stress Anxiety is energy. If it stays stuck, it turns into tension. You do not need a full workout. Try: A brisk 10-minute walk Stretching your shoulders and neck Shaking out your arms and legs Taking three slow, deliberate breaths Physical movement tells your brain, “I am safe enough to move.” That message matters. 4. Swap Doom Scrolling for Purpose Scrolling If you feel helpless, your brain will look for more information. Instead, gently redirect it. You could: Read about humanitarian aid efforts Donate to a trusted organisation Have a thoughtful conversation instead of an argument Write down one small action that reflects your values Anxiety shrinks when we reconnect with agency. You cannot solve global conflict, but you can choose how you show up in your own community. 5. Keep Living Your Ordinary Life One of the quiet tricks of anxiety is convincing you that joy is inappropriate when the world is struggling. It is not. You are allowed to: Laugh at a silly video Cook your favourite meal Plan a holiday Enjoy time with people you care about Caring about the world and enjoying your own life are not opposites. They can exist side by side. 6. Notice When It Is Becoming Too Much If you are struggling to sleep, constantly checking headlines, feeling panicky, or finding that your thoughts are stuck on worst-case scenarios, that is a sign to slow things down. Talking to friends, family, or even a counsellor can help you separate healthy concern from spiralling anxiety. Sometimes the most powerful step is simply saying out loud, “I am finding this hard.” A Gentle Reminder You are not responsible for holding the weight of global events on your shoulders. You are responsible for caring for your nervous system, your relationships, and your wellbeing. When you stay steady, you contribute something meaningful to the world: a regulated, thoughtful, compassionate human being. And that truly does matter.

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As a counsellor, January is a fascinating time. Not because anything fundamentally changes in the human psyche overnight but because suddenly, en masse, people decide they will become entirely different people… starting on a random Monday. Ah yes. New Year, New Me. I see it written everywhere. On social media. In WhatsApp groups. Occasionally whispered with a mix of hope and mild panic in my therapy room. But as far as I am concerned you are not a phone that needs a software update. And even if you were, I promise you wouldn’t install version 2.0 at midnight after prosecco and four hours of sleep. January: The Month of Unrealistic Personal Rebrands In January, people arrive with ambitious plans: “This year I’m emotionally regulated.” “I’m setting boundaries.” “I’ll stop procrastinating.” “I’ll finally heal all my childhood stuff.” By January 12th, we’re renegotiating: “Could I just be… slightly less tired?” “What if I keep my coping mechanisms but add one vegetable?” “Is personal growth allowed to nap?” Progress. The Truth Therapists Rarely Put on Instagram Here’s the less glamorous, counsellor-approved reality: Change is slow Growth is inconvenient Insight does not arrive on January 1st wearing activewear Healing often looks like doing the same thing but with a bit more awareness and slightly less self-hatred Also, if “New You” hates the gym, wakes at 5am, journals daily, and drinks green juice, I have some news. That might be Someone Else. Your Nervous System Did Not Agree to This A quick note from your nervous system (which did not attend your New Year planning meeting): “I liked the routines we had. I do not trust sudden enthusiasm. Please stop shouting ‘discipline’ at me.” As a counsellor, I often remind clients: your nervous system prefers consistency, not dramatic reinvention. It likes small, repeatable, boring changes. It thrives on safety, not aggressive vision boards. A More Sustainable Resolution (Counsellor Approved) If you’re open to it, may I suggest an alternative resolution? New Year, Same Me, Just Slightly Kinder. That might look like: Pausing before criticising yourself Resting without earning it Not turning every bad day into a personality flaw Accepting that growth does not require suffering as proof Wild, I know. Final Thoughts You don’t need a new you. You need: More compassion Fewer unrealistic expectations And permission to be human in January, of all months And if you slip up? Congratulations. You are behaving exactly like a person. See you in February, when we quietly admit the real work has always been about acceptance, not reinvention. t source.

Parenting advice can sometimes make it sound like raising a child requires the skills of a therapist, the patience of a monk, and the energy of someone who has had eight hours of sleep… every night… for the past ten years. Which, of course, rules out most parents immediately. Luckily, the British paediatrician and psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott had some very reassuring news for parents: children don’t need perfect parents. They need “good enough” ones. And “good enough” turns out to be pretty great. The Good Enough Parent According to Winnicott, a good enough parent is someone who: Loves their child Tries to respond to their needs Gets things wrong sometimes Still shows up the next day In other words: a normal human being. At the beginning of life, babies need a lot of care. Feed me. Hold me. Change me. Repeat every two hours forever. Parents usually try their best to respond quickly. But as children grow, parents inevitably become a little less perfectly tuned in. Maybe you don’t hear them the first time they shout “Muuuuuum!” from upstairs. Maybe the snack arrives three minutes later than expected. Maybe the blue cup is in the dishwasher and only the red one is available (a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions). And guess what? Children survive. Why Imperfect Parenting Is Actually Helpful Winnicott believed that small frustrations help children learn important things about life. For example: Sometimes you have to wait. Sometimes things don’t go your way. Sometimes the biscuit breaks in half. These tiny disappointments help children develop resilience, patience, and problem-solving skills. If everything went perfectly all the time, children might grow up thinking the world exists solely to refill their juice cup immediately. And unfortunately, the adult world is not that responsive. The Secret Parenting Skill: Repair Here’s the important part: good enough parents repair things when they go wrong. Maybe you snap because you’re tired. Maybe you misunderstood what your child meant. Maybe you say no to something and later realise you were a bit harsh. A good enough parent simply comes back and says something like: “Sorry I got cross earlier.” “I didn’t listen properly.” “Let’s try again.” This teaches children a powerful lesson: relationships can handle mistakes. And that might be one of the most important things they ever learn. Letting Go of Perfect Parenting Modern parenting can sometimes feel like a performance. You’re supposed to be calm, emotionally attuned, creative, patient, organised, healthy, and probably serving organic vegetables shaped like woodland animals. Meanwhile, real life looks more like: “Is cereal a dinner?” “Why is there LEGO in my shoe?” “Who taught this child the word ‘actually’?” Winnicott’s idea is wonderfully freeing. Ordinary parenting is enough. You don’t have to get everything right. You just have to care, try, and keep showing up. A Helpful Parenting Reality Check If you: Love your child Sometimes get tired or frustrated Occasionally say the wrong thing Then try again tomorrow Congratulations. You are very likely already a good enough parent. And according to Winnicott, that’s exactly what children need.

If you have ever looked at your partner across the sofa, surrounded by mugs, laundry, and the low hum of a television you are not really watching, and thought, How did romance end up here?, you are in excellent company. A lot of our modern thinking about sex, marriage, desire, and infidelity comes from Esther Perel, a Belgian psychotherapist and relationship expert who has become famous for saying the things many couples feel but rarely say out loud. Her work explores why desire can fade in long-term relationships, why affairs happen, and why love and sex do not always want the same things. Her ideas are equal parts reassuring and unsettling, which is usually a sign they are worth paying attention to. Love Wants Comfort, Desire Wants Space One of Perel’s most quoted observations is that “love seeks closeness, desire needs distance.” This sounds poetic until you realise that distance is quite hard to come by when you share a bed, a bathroom, and strong opinions about how the dishwasher should be loaded. Marriage and long-term partnership are built on familiarity. You know each other’s routines, habits, and mild annoyances. Eroticism, however, thrives on mystery, imagination, and the sense that your partner is still a separate person, not just someone who knows your food order by heart. This helps explain why desire can fade even when love is strong. It is not that anything has gone wrong. It is that comfort has done its job a little too well. Sex Is Never Just About Sex Perel is clear that sex is rarely just about sex. It is about feeling wanted, feeling alive, feeling close, and sometimes feeling free from responsibility for five whole minutes. This is why couples can be deeply committed and still struggle in the bedroom. Sex ends up carrying the emotional weight of everything else. Stress, resentment, exhaustion, and the fact that no one has had a proper night’s sleep since 2019. In short, if sex feels complicated, that is because life is complicated. What on Earth Is Erotic Intelligence? Perel talks about “erotic intelligence”, which sounds intimidating but is actually quite simple. It is about curiosity, imagination, and remembering that your partner exists beyond shared routines and joint calendars. Eroticism lives in anticipation, playfulness, and the ability to see each other as more than co-managers of bills, children, or weekend plans. Sometimes this means planning intimacy rather than waiting for spontaneous magic to strike. Yes, this may involve scheduling sex. No, this does not mean romance is dead. It just means romance has accepted that everyone is tired. Infidelity and the Desire for Something Else Infidelity is the topic no one wants to talk about until it affects them, which is exactly why Perel talks about it so openly. She suggests that affairs are often less about rejecting a partner and more about reconnecting with a lost part of oneself. As she famously puts it, “The victim of the affair says, ‘You broke our marriage.’ The person who had the affair says, ‘I was trying to save myself.’” This does not excuse infidelity, but it does add nuance. It reminds us that relationships are not just about loyalty, but also about identity, freedom, and feeling seen. Perel also challenges the idea that infidelity must automatically mean the end. Some relationships do end. Others survive. Some even change for the better, though usually after difficult conversations and very little glamour. Marriage Is Not a Destination At the heart of Perel’s work is the idea that long-term relationships are not something you “fix” once and then leave alone. Desire changes. People change. Life gets in the way. Marriage and partnership are ongoing conversations, not completed projects. And struggling at times does not mean you are failing. It means you are human and in a relationship with another human, which was always going to be a bit messy. A More Realistic Take on Love Love wants security. Desire wants freedom. Modern relationships are expected to deliver both, ideally while remaining calm, kind, and emotionally available after a long workday. It is a tall order. Esther Perel’s work reminds us that the goal is not perfection or constant passion. It is curiosity, honesty, and the willingness to keep seeing each other as evolving people, not fixed roles. And if you can approach all of that with a sense of humour, a bit of humility, and the occasional deep sigh, you are doing fine.

When we think of counselling, we often imagine a quiet room, a serious tone, and tissues within reach. Yet, amid the emotional depth of therapy, humour can play a profound and transformative role. Far from being frivolous, laughter can open pathways to connection, insight, and healing. As the American psychologist Carl Rogers once said, “What is most personal is most universal.” And sometimes, what’s most personal is also what makes us laugh. The Psychology Behind Humour Sigmund Freud (1928) was one of the first to explore humour as a psychological mechanism. In "Jokes and Their Relation to the Unconscious," Freud suggested that humour serves as a “release valve,” allowing people to express repressed thoughts in a socially acceptable way. From this perspective, humour can provide both emotional relief and insight into deeper, unconscious material. Later theorists such as Viktor Frankl (1963), the Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, also emphasised humour’s survival value. In "Man’s Search for Meaning," Frankl observed that even in the darkest circumstances, humour offered a way to rise above suffering — a small act of defiance against despair. The Therapeutic Benefits of Humour Research and clinical experience suggest that humour in counselling can: Build rapport and trust: A shared laugh humanises the therapist and strengthens the therapeutic alliance. As Carl Rogers (1957) highlighted, genuineness and warmth are key to effective therapy. A moment of laughter can embody both. Reduce anxiety and defensiveness: Humour can gently disarm resistance, allowing clients to explore difficult issues more freely. Shift perspective: Lightness can help clients reframe their thoughts, see patterns, and develop resilience. Encourage emotional regulation: Studies have found that humour activates brain regions associated with reward and emotion regulation (Mobbs et al., 2003), helping clients manage stress. When Humour Helps — and When It Hurts The art of using humour in therapy lies in timing and sensitivity. As psychologist Albert Ellis (1962), founder of Rational Emotive Behaviour Therapy (REBT), demonstrated, humour can be a powerful cognitive tool. Ellis often used gentle sarcasm or exaggeration to help clients see the irrationality of their beliefs — what he called “shame-attacking exercises.” Yet, his approach was always underpinned by empathy and respect. As research by Franzini (2001) notes, humour is beneficial in therapy only when it is inclusive, compassionate, and contextually appropriate. Using Humour in Therapy Therapist may: Model self-acceptance: Use gentle self-deprecating humour to show that imperfection is normal. Invite playfulness: Encourage creativity and flexibility in thinking, particularly in cognitive-behavioural or narrative approaches. Observe boundaries: Use humour to connect, not to deflect from the client’s pain. Reflect after laughter: Pause and explore what the humour reveals — what truth lies behind the smile. A Balancing Act Humour in counselling isn’t about telling jokes. It’s about recognising moments of levity and humanity amid struggle. As psychiatrist Irvin Yalom (1989) observed in "Love’s Executioner," authentic connection often includes moments of laughter — even in grief, loss, and despair. Those moments remind clients (and therapists) that healing isn’t just about surviving; it’s about rediscovering joy and perspective. In the end, humour can be seen as a subtle act of resistance against suffering — a way of saying, “I can still find light here.” When used thoughtfully, laughter can be as therapeutic as any interpretation or intervention.

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