This cruel life. Chapter twenty seven. Life worth living

I enrolled on a professional counselling course, partly to help myself find a way to deal with depression and deep unhappiness I felt, and, partly to help others in similar situations to myself. As part of the counselling course, I had to take ten counselling hours, to make sure I was psychologically able to carry on at the depths we were heading. We went to emotionally depths that I did not think possible, and in order to deal with whatever hidden or forgotten experiences we had as trainees, we had to have counselling. My ten sessions with my chosen counsellor, Brenda, opened a can of worms and my ten sessions turned into five years of weekly sessions.

When I met Brenda, I did not think she would be able to stick with me. I felt that I had too many issues and twisted beliefs about myself. She did stay with me and in time I came to trust her. I talked for a long time about my experiences without emotion. I had accepted my past so felt nothing when I spoke about memories of being abused. I was disconnected from my feelings and Brenda helped me recognise that I was disconnected. She gave me love and support and in time my memories finally connected to the terrible pain that I had suppressed all my life. It hurt deeply to face some of my demons but I was ready to face them. I was afraid that the immensity of my screaming emotions would engulf me and kill me. For almost five years she stayed by my side while I cried week in week out as I let my memories surface for me to face once and for all.

The counselling course helped me to understand myself and others better. The more I learnt and understood the stronger emotionally I became. With Martin and Brenda for support, I felt like I could overcome everything that had happened to me and my experiences would enable me to help others like me. I worked as a volunteer counsellor for two women centres, reaching as many women in pain as I could. I taught my friend, Elaine, who was arranging to come and stay with me, like she often did, so that we could learn together to let go of our past pain and support each other while we did so. I believed that I could help Elaine overcome her own alcoholism and that she would be free of pain too. I felt that there was hope for us both and for our children.

I was waiting for a visit from my friend Elaine when I got a phone call. ‘Is that you Louise? I recognised the voice as being Elaine's husband. “It is, how are you, Derek?” I asked, happy to hear his voice. I half expected him to say, “Elaine is just pulling in to your street. I tried telling her to at least let thee know she war coming, but tha know what she’s like, gets an idea and she's off”, like I had heard him say so many times before. “She is dead, Louise, she hung herself last night in the same place her brother killed himself last year”. Elaine left a suicide note for me and in it she said, “I could not carry on knowing that I was hurting people. Tell everyone I was really a loving person”. Considering what she had been through in her life, she was one of the most loving people I had ever met. I was devastated then but my life was going to take another unexpected event that very nearly pushed me over the edge for good.

A couple of weeks before I completed my counselling course, I noticed that Martin was losing weight and asked him if he was ill. He assured me that he was not and that he was fine. Soon after that conversation, he told me he had been experiencing pains in the side of his stomach. He went to the doctor and was admitted to hospital for tests. The next ten days were a blur for me. I could not face what I feared the most, that Martin was seriously ill and that I might lose him. Martin died within ten days of being admitted to hospital of bowel cancer and part of me died with him. For a long time I was waiting for my body to catch up with my dead heart. I hurt so deeply that sometimes I feel that I thought the pain of losing two of my dearest friends would engulf me and I would lose the sanity I had tried so hard to hold on to. I wondered why life was and had been so cruel to me even though I tried so hard to make life good. I graduated having completed three years counselling training and instead of this event being the beginning of my life, to me it meant the end and I gave up.

Next chapter. For the sake of the children.

Previous chapter. Living hell.

Why I tell my story