PERSONAL

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458

Counselling Course - Class 1

10 months ago3,951 words

I went to the first class of the Counselling course yesterday, which was the first time I've been around a group of strangers in many years. My experience was... mixed. Some disappointment, some hope, some anxious assumptions confirmed, while others were challenged.

I went primarily for the chance to connect with people; I'm not all that interested in the course itself. Or rather, I'm more interested in it than I would be in, say, a dance class or a D&D group, since I'm genuinely into psychology and the one-on-one sharing feelings setting is the one where I feel most comfortable. Plus I feel the need for a probably part-time career with flexible hours and an actually reliable income. Something I can do alongside art to address the isolation and financial issues.

I was barely able to focus for days before it due to simmering anxiety about how it might go, specifically who might show up and whether or not I'd be able to connect with them. Or fears about my body failing me, or making a fool of myself, or not knowing where to go and getting lost; all things based on past bad experiences.

It was an evening class, 6pm until 9pm, so I 'needed' to carefully plan the hours of that day before the class to control my anxiety. I went for a walk in the morning to the destination to check how long it took to get there, I had a video call with one of my two friends - planned days in advance - at a certain time to shift my brain from isolation mode to interaction mode, ate meals at specific times to minimise feelings of hunger or bloatedness... all while in a state of constant anticipatory tension.

I've been to things like this in the past, and don't remember ever being this neurotic beforehand. But my memory seems generally hazy, so maybe I was and I just can't recall. Or maybe it's because it'd been so long since I'd last been out in the world. I don't know.

I got an email in the morning about where we should meet up, which revealed that the tutor was a man, to my surprise. Most counsellors are women. I got worried about this, wondering whether half the class would be male and I'd end up stuck with another loserly guy like myself, blocking off any hope of finding the sort of connection I was hoping to find. Or maybe this counsellor would be someone put-together and either hotly masculine or softly paternal in a way the others were drawn to but I felt apart from or intimidated by.

I set off ridiculously early, as I always do, and arrived about half an hour before the class started. It was dark, and quiet, and I went into the surprisingly spacious reception - which is where the email said to go - and... had a surprisingly nice conversation with the receptionist??

It was odd. Nobody from the course was there - as expected due to how early I was, though I had faintly hoped a kindred spirit might have done the same as me - and this receptionist woman seemed strangely inquisitive and chatty, I don't know why. We talked about psychology, with her asking me questions in a way that seemed sincerely curious. (She'd even heard of Myers-Briggs and said she was an INTJ.) It all felt very human, not like some robotic professional pragmatism. She also said this was only her second shift there; I suppose that must have been the reason. It put me at ease, though, and any anxiety I had previously dissolved. Not because she was soothingly maternal or anything - I suppose 'slightly awkward' might be a better fit? - but because she didn't treat me like the troglodyte I believe others will see me as.

It's generally the case that my anxiety ends once I arrive at the destination despite all the tension leading up to it, at least these days. What I dread is the bridge between being alone in my room and being wherever I'm meant to go. Will I get there on time? Will my body fail me at any point?? My mind's a thorned tangle of possibilities, things that could happen, all of which my demons scream I must adequately prepare for lest there be catastrophe. Once I get talking, I ease up... though I suppose it also depends on the person? Maybe? I don't even know, I have so little experience.

The tutor showed up after a while, and the cloud of possibilities for what kind of person he might be collapsed comfortably into someone I found nonthreatening, relatable, which also put me at ease. He was a few years younger than me, and similar in many ways, at least superficially. Friendly, but awkward, compassionate, curious. Nerdy. Or at least that's the impression I got. I felt that he, like me, knew what it was like to suffer, socially. It's usually fairly obvious.

He took me from the reception to the classroom we'd be using, and we talked a bit along the way and when we got there. I felt we got along okay, to the point where the beliefs about other men I developed as a shell over the years - I don't want male friends because they can't lead to romance, they'll only be critical like the Fig Hunter people were anyway, I'm far from stereotypically masculine and have more in common with women than other men - began to crack.

After we talked for a few minutes in the classroom, he said he was going back to the reception to collect any other students who might have showed up. Rather than waiting in the classroom alone, I asked to go with him. When we got there, several of the others - all women - had arrived and were chatting. I felt like I'd missed out, that maybe some crucial connections had begun to form there. Often with these things, it's who you happen to find yourself next to - or who you arrive at the same time as or whatever - which determines who you stick with for the weeks ahead. The two people I grew closest to in uni were people I just happened to be adjacent to during meet-new-people gatherings. Had I sat just one chair away, a whole tree of experiences likely wouldn't have grown at all.

As more and more people came into the class - late, mostly, as seems to be the norm for everyone but me - they paired up and sat together, sharing amicable smalltalk in a way I suppose women strangers do with one another. There were two long tables with maybe eight chairs each, all facing forward forming two rows, with the tutor's desk in the corner furthest from the door. Because I'd already connected with him a bit, I chose a seat in the front row near the tutor's desk, but with spaces free on either side. These details are important, and the choices I made were not ideal. Nobody came and sat next to me, instead filling up the free spaces closest to the door and furthest from me. And there were more chairs than people - there were maybe 12 of us in total - so both sides of me were left empty. They were also the only two chairs left unoccupied in the room.

I was the only man in the class - and the only one in the room other than the tutor - and I look - and am - odd. I was expecting - maybe even hoping - for something like this (being the only man, I mean), though it did of course make me the alien right from the start.

I'd heard about this course via my mum as one of her colleagues had attended it last time, and that person had said she felt like she was the only sane one in the room, that all of the others were currently in counselling themselves for fairly obvious issues. I was hoping for that! To feel a sense of belonging in a group of fellow nutjobs. But, as always, luck wasn't on my side. The others all seemed like 'normies', and I felt even more like an alien.

We went around introducing ourselves, saying our name, our reason for coming to this course, and our current occupation. All the others gave some variation of "I'm a teacher/work with children/vulnerable adults, and I've always found counselling interesting and hope this furthers my career". I said something about having had counselling myself for my own mental health issues, and described my current occupation as "artist" (what else would I say?). I also said I was briefly 'famous' online for games I made, which is a thing I tend to say since it's kind of true and maybe worth asking about further.

At some later point, the tutor asked people to raise their hands if they'd had counselling themselves; only four or five of us did. Less than half. Shocking to me, that, and I worry about their future clients if they do go further down this path. I'd hate to have a counsellor who's not dealt with mental health issues of their own. But maybe that's just me, and most would prefer someone saner. He said his previous class was the opposite, as almost all of them were in counselling. I know, I wish I'd been in that one!

During brief lulls in the lecture, when people started quietly talking to the person next to them, I noticed a woman on my left wasn't talking to anyone, as there were pairs on her left and she formed the odd number. I moved to the empty chair there and tried to talk a bit, but I sensed quickly we were from different worlds. She was a decade older, seemed quite reticent, not as openly odd as I seem to be. I sensed my giggling about how socially inept I am approach - which was what led to friendships with like(ish) minds in the past - was just making her uncomfortable, and shut up fairly quickly. Both of us sat in silence after that while the others around us talked, and my demons screamed about how I might as well just leave, there's no point to this, I'll only feel worse by staying, painfully are of how much of a misfit alien I am and always have been.

The tutor taught more, though my mind was elsewhere and I can't say I was absorbing anything. We had a proper break, and everyone left the room. I went to the toilet - which felt like some leap forward in terms of anxiety progress since I probably would have been too scared to do that in a strange place a few years ago - but then came back to the classroom, which was mostly empty.

Mostly. One younger woman hadn't left, which might have been a great opportunity to connect with a fellow misfit, though she was busy eating and looking at her phone so obviously we were in very different mental spaces.

I just ended up talking with the tutor a bit. He asked me about the games I'd previously hinted at, and I mentioned MARDEK by name, somewhat reluctantly. I wonder if he looked it up, found this blog and is reading it now! Hopefully I haven't said anything insulting at any point! (I hope he just forgot.)

He also apologised for how badly he felt the class had been going, due to technical issues that disrupted his plans for this first one. Someone behind me - I can't remember if it was the woman on her phone, or another who'd come in while I was talking to the tutor - gave him some standard reassurances about how it was okay, don't worry about it, etc. I appreciated the relatable neuroticism from him and the compassionate understanding from her.

I also spoke up and said "I'm too busy cringing about something I said out loud earlier". If anything, I was the most vocal one in the class during the actual teaching, in terms of asking and commenting.

This surprised me; in the past, I would have been a meek little mouse, saying nothing, electric with anxiety at the mere thought. Little physiological anxiety here, though; only a kind of sadness about being out of place. I suspect positioning was crucial here, too. I was close to him and had my back to everyone else; were I behind them all, I'd be more aware of their reactions.

Because they were all behind me though, I'd interrupted a woman who spoke up, a couple of times. That's what I was cringing about.

(Well, that, and he also asked what we think of when we picture a 'counsellor', and I - since I'd literally had to think of this when designing archetypes for Dreamons recently - said there isn't really a clear stereotype of a counsellor that I'm aware of. Someone else - maybe this was the woman I interrupted, actually - mentioned the Freud type oldish man in a suit who you lay on a couch thing for while he psychoanalysed you. I'd actually forgotten all about that after a similar lecture dispelling it during my Psychology course, plus I'd long since formed a distinction between 'counsellors' and 'therapists', with the problem-solving Freud types being the latter and the former being empathetic women who mostly just listened. But this tutor said that therapists and counselling were one and the same? Hmm. Funnily, when I spoke up to say I didn't have a clear image of a 'counsellor', I said something like "other than a woman wearing a-", cutting myself off to reiterate the lack of obvious stereotype. What I was going to say - based on Dreamons brainstorming - was "a woman wearing a beige turtleneck jumper", but it seemed too bizarrely specific and it'd only be confusing to everyone else in the room. Moments later, the tutor showed us a clip of two counsellors - a man and a woman - explaining their profession. The woman was wearing a beige turtleneck jumper. I wish I'd not cut myself off! Agh, what a shame. Would have been hilarious.)

ANYWAY. As I was saying, I mentioned to the tutor - in response to him apologising for how badly he felt the class was going due to technical issues - that I was too busy cringing about something I'd said aloud. To which he said, genuinely confused "what did you say?" (the thing I'd said - which I just described - was mere minutes earlier). I responded with "Exactly!", and said something about how 99% of our attention is directed to our own minds and behaviours, so we don't even notice or remember things that other people might believe are the most awful or embarrassing things ever, or at least that's what I try to tell myself. Again I had a feeling of meaningful contribution and interaction or something.

All that was during a break, but after that exchange the others came pouring back in, all at once. I assume they'd been out being normal and forming ordinary connections. Bleh.

The rest of the class was mostly just us being told stuff, but again my mind wandered. I felt a kind of disconnect from the whole schooling aspect, like I really don't care about my academic performance because it's less important than the human connection I was hoping to find there. Everyone else had notebooks out, I didn't. Maybe I'll need to engage with that more as the course's 15 weeks go on. Another bleh.

Leaving time is another chance for chatting and connection, which I completely wasted. While everyone slowly put their books and stuff away (I didn't have any), probably planning to talk a bit more with those around them now that the shackles of school seating were lifted, I weaved my way around them and shot out like a rocket, headed immediately home. They probably all went to their cars anyway. There were two ways out, and I took the one that didn't pass by reception, so I didn't even get to see the receptionist again. I think I've always left quickly like this. First in, first out. Ever the alien.

I walked home in what felt like the blink of an eye, and my parents asked me how it went. I described a very summarised version of what I said here, concluding that I'm a weirdo and this just reminded me of that. My step-dad insisted, irked, that I'm not a weirdo. He seems to understand 'weirdo' to mean the sort of person who shoots up schools. Weird.

I am a weirdo, though, obviously, and I'm comfortable with that. One of the many things that sets me apart from others is that I'm openly odd rather than hiding behind a mask of normality, afraid to show my true self to others (many people seem to not even know their true self due to the degree of masking they've had to do). I just wish I could find someone else who was similarly weird. But they're rare.



Something else that just came to mind:

While talking with the receptionist shortly after arriving, she must have asked my age, to which I replied "how old do you think I look?", out of genuine curiosity. She said I looked late twenties, early thirties; I said I'm 35. I don't remember learning her age though! I think that's when we were interrupted? She looked around my age, maybe younger? Older?? Not obviously very young or very old.

Moments later, while talking to the tutor alone in the classroom before anyone else arrived, I asked him (as part of other things rather than bluntly out of nowhere!) "how old are you?", to which he replied "how old do you think I look?". Ha. "I just asked the receptionist that same thing!", I said. That's what I meant about feeling we were in many ways alike.

I was quite worried about the ages of my other classmates before going in. Turns out there were a mix of ages, with maybe most older than me? Though I'm probably terrible at gauging ages anyway since in my mind I still look like a young 20-something, so someone in their thirties would look 'old' to me even if they might actually be younger than me.



I had some thoughts about just dropping out of the course since there's nothing for me there, but I suppose there were enough nuggets of curiosity - and a general feeling of achievement - that I'm curious to at least give it another week.

I'm actually wondering whether to show up early again just for a chance to talk to either the receptionist or the tutor! I'd like to ask her about the curiosity about psychology she showed, how and why she'd learned she was an INTJ, and to comment about how she knew more about personality psychology than all the mental health workers I can remember interacting with! And I want to ask him about whether we'd be shuffling around seats to give us chances to interact with everyone in the class.

I know we'll be doing group work - it'd be silly if we didn't since it's a counselling course - but I don't know whether we'll have to choose partners, or they'll be decided for us, or whether they'll be fixed for weeks or changing. Things he said made it unclear.

I barely got to interact with the others in the class and they mostly sat behind me, but I didn't really get the impression that any of them were obviously 'my kind of person', as I had with my previous counsellor. She looked and acted a bit like me, whereas these women reminded me more of hairdressers or something. Heavy makeup, fashionable but practical clothes. Not nerdy weirdos. Some of them might secretly be nerdy weirdos! But it wasn't obvious from the surface.

(On a purely animalistic level, I also wasn't attracted to any of them, though I've never really thought that way about women anyway? I was once asked to name a female celebrity I found attractive and couldn't. Partly it's because making art has spoiled me. Also, I'd be stunned if any of them were remotely attracted to me!)

The only one who sparked even a glimmer of curiosity in me was a youngish woman who was directly behind me, who seemed to have had many counsellors in the past, largely due to that and her and I maybe being the most outspoken in terms of comments and questions. We seemed to come from different positions - I thought it was a shame counsellors were forbidden from ever, under any circumstances, connecting with clients beyond the professional contstraints, while she thought it was a good thing such rules exist, in my case because I'm painfully lonely and in hers I'd guess it's due to unwanted attention she's had in the past - but that at least gave something to tug at, to discuss, to probe into. Why was she in counselling? I'm genuinely curious to know.

(I suspect based on her appearance and what little I saw of her demeanour that she's more disagreeable than me, though, and wouldn't exactly be drawn to me. I'd also guess BDP as the reason for her repeated use of counselling, though I'd rather find out by asking.)



Obviously I still overthink everything, but I felt like I discovered some things about myself and dispelled some illusions about the world just by getting out of my head for a bit. Maybe as the weeks go on I'll shed more of this madness and feel more at ease in reality, which might hopefully lead to some meaningful life changes even if I don't meet my ~soulmate~ at this first thing that I've tried in years.

And, well, it could have gone a whole lot worse!!



I've been wondering though where I might have the highest likelihood of finding 'my people'. I thought based on past experiences psychology might be it, but more and more I'm realising 'artists' might be the more likely lot.

'Artists' is so vague a category, though. Some artists draw moody portraits or scenic landscapes to be hung in galleries, while others draw neon furries yiffing and have panic attacks when someone gets their pronouns wrong. I'm more the latter category, but I'm not even sure where they congregate online these days. Or have I outgrown that stage? I wonder.

As a lead-up to the dreaded Day Of The Class, when I couldn't focus on work, I actually posted on Reddit several times (at excessive length, meaning my posts got minimal attention), including in art communities, which relieved a lot of my anxiety about that and even already led to one offering of enduring connection.

Personality-psychology-focused subreddits are a possibility too. While I've outgrown the pseudoscientific systems I was obsessed with the past (now I only use the Big Five; I should really write about those one day), communities based around them might be full of similarish minds.

So maybe that's a direction I can continue searching in. There are options. Maybe this'll be the year I finally break out of this rut, this shell, this prison, and become human again, in my own weird way.



I also did some work on Dreamons during the times when I could focus a bit. I'll probably post about that over the weekend. Hopefully!