I sat alone on the overly comfortable couch in the room with blue walls and green curtains. There was something very clean about the room. The painting on the wall was abstract, and it felt like every piece of furniture, every bit of art, every bit of stationery was there to test my mind. I have never been to a psychiatrist, psychologist or counsellor before. This was my first time in therapy, and I wondered what he was like. The man who walked in after two polite knocks was rather older than I expected. He was about my grandfather's age. I wondered if he would understand the complexities of the new generation and the stress we go through. Truth be said, I did not even know if something was wrong with me, but I felt so overwhelmed lately that I could not sleep at night. That was when I decided to try therapy because my bad thoughts had by now transformed into bad dreams and nightmares that woke me up with sweat and tears in the middle of the night. I wondered if he could fix all of that, if he could understand my stress, where it came from and understand bits and parts of me which I myself did not. And so it started. He sat down with a clipboard and pen while I was told to relax. I did not know how to, honestly, with a stranger in a strange room. The place was not familiar to my guards, and we were up. I held my knees as I sat on the edge of the sofa without leaning on the very soft back guard back support. That is when he asked me why I was there. And the first question I asked him was, " What is wrong with me? He smiled, a very calming smile, as he said, “Who says something is wrong with you?”
“ I don't know. I can't sleep. I have nightmares that cannot be normal.”
“ Well, what is normal then?” He asked.
“I don't know. I don't know anything lately. Will you help me?” My question perhaps sounded like I was begging. He smiled again as he nodded.
“Of course, I'll help you, but first you have to help yourself.”
It was one hour to the session when the bell rang, and the session was over. And the conversation ended abruptly. As I walked back home in the rain, cursing myself for not bringing an umbrella, shivering a little as the cold water hit my skin, his thought echoed in my ears. I'll help you only if you help yourself.
