Today I had a session with JB, a counsellor who works with young people setting up their own businesses, who I will hereafter refer to as my ‘business therapist’ (because that’s basically what she is). As a 24-year-old young woman with mental health problems I qualify for several free sessions with her through one of the many business courses I’m doing while I phase off Employment Support Allowance, which I’ve been on since I lost my reporter job in February.
JB is there to help me with any underlying mental-health stuff that might affect my ability to set up my own business. At one of the bookkeeping classes offered by this particular business advice agency the accountant doing the lesson told me that if you’re “chaotic” you shouldn’t go into business. JB is there to help me succeed DESPITE being “chaotic” (i.e. mentally unwell).
I’m a little worried I’m bi-polar. The paroxetine has helped more or less completely lift the depressive side of things, as well as some of the anxiety, but now that my energy has returned a bit I’ve been as “crazy” as ever. Well, maybe not quite as bad as I have sometimes been in the past, but enough to make me wonder if a different medication might be more effective at keeping me at a functioning level without any extreme lows or highs.
Anyway, sessions with JB seem to leave me feeling like I can do anything. Like I’m capable of running a successful and sustainable business. Like I’m capable of paying my rent & living costs through my own hard work & creative skills. It’s scary, because I walk out of sessions with her believing in myself. Believing I deserve to be paid for articles I write for other publications. Believing that Alfie really does love me. Believing the zine will succeed. It’s exhausting. I usually take a nap when I get home from a session with her. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.