Counselling cliche alert: sometimes it feels worse before it feels better.

As with any walk of life, counselling has its cliches. Its stock phrases. Its buzz words.

I find myself hearing a siren go off in my head - accompanied by flashing lights - as I feel myself about to reach for one. The alarm sounding doesn’t always mean that I stop myself and choose a different word or phrase, but it does encourage me to be honest about what is about to happen. I let my client know I am about to reach into the counsellor cliche lexicon for my next comment or reflection.

I prefer to work this way; it feels more authentic, more honest; more me, to acknowledge that what I am about to say isn’t original or my own work. I try in my work to avoid using jargon, or talk about counselling theory (sorry Carl and Sigmund!), but instead to mostly use the client’s own words and simple, straightforward language of my own. I try also to avoid the constant silent nodding, cardigan-wearing and beard-stroking counsellor caricature we are often fed on TV and in films. *Full disclosure: I do have a beard.

In the great spirit of Googling our symptoms before we go to the GP, I find many clients are already well into their research on what is causing their distress and have read widely online or elsewhere and could play their own counselling cliche bingo without my help. They would probably spot the cliche after it has landed in any case and recognise it the minute it drops from my mouth.

That all said, there is a reason why familiar appearances, phrases, words and actions are powerful- and can be helpful. They can offer comfort. They can feel safe and understood. They are often the opposite of a nasty shock. They have their place. I have noticed that one cliche has been appearing more than others recently, especially with a number of my new or new-ish clients. I have used it several times and it’s prompted me to reflect on why.

The cliche to which I refer: “sometimes it feels worse before it feels better’, has its own place because it is true. I find myself saying it because it can provide clients with the explanation (I am deliberately not using the word “reassurance” as sometimes it is our role to avoid reassurance but to sit with discomfort, or from using “education”, which I feel can be patronising) as to why clients experience greater distress, anxiety, discomfort or perhaps the first tears they have shed for some time, at least in part because of the process of therapy.

Often the most powerful work done by clients is in between sessions, when they reflect on what they have said in the counselling room, what we have discussed, and what it means to them. This can be profound. It can be painful. It can make things seems harder. These feelings can unsettle some clients and prompt them to question themselves and the therapy, making them wonder out loud if they are doing it wrong. But it can also be a positive step on a road to greater awareness, understanding, acceptance and change for clients. As with so much in counselling, it all depends. It depends on each client, who is unique, with their own feelings and experiences.

My experience to date however tells me that when we do speak about things - often difficult things and often for the first time - it can bring those feelings to the surface within us and can become harder to ignore and help us be ready to address them. That is rarely easy. It is often painful. It is the nuts and bolts of therapy (sorry for the cliche!).

It can feel worse, but hopefully before it feels better.