A day in the life of a therapist

Muge Ahmet is a 30 year old therapist, living in Crayford in south east London, and lives with her partner Tanju.

She specialises in cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) and eye movement desensitisation reprocessing therapy (EDMR), where a therapist supports you to relive traumatic or triggering experiences in brief doses while directing your eye movements and distracting you, so that recounting the experience is less painful. CBT helps you manage your problems by changing the way you think and behave. She is currently working solely from home, for IESO Digital Health, providing NHS patients with 1 to 1 therapy.

7am

I’m trying to keep to a routine and structure, so that whenever ‘this’ is over, it’s not too much of a shock to the system. I grab a banana and jump on my cross-trainer for 40 minutes. I’m doing this every day at the moment, to keep my fitness levels up and maintain my mental health.

I feel energised this morning, more than usual. I slept far better than I have the last few weeks and I can tell. My sleep has been broken since we went into lockdown. I try not to dwell on it, but the change of routine has affected me.

I shower, get dressed, do my hair and make-up, grab a coffee and start panicking that I’ll be late for my first patient, even though I won’t be. I open my laptop and start prepping.

10am

I start work at 10am every day. The first thing I do is check my emails then my diary, and remind myself of the patients I’m seeing today. I refamiliarise myself with my cases and where we are in each treatment plan to make sure we get the most from each session.

I generally book in around six to eight patients a day; each session takes around 50 minutes. I take breaks in between everyone, to prep and refocus.

12pm

I take a complete break at lunchtime. I’ve learned the hard way that not giving myself the time away from my laptop isn’t good for my own mental health. It gives me that break to refuel and re-energise for my next patient. I’m really good at getting my five a day, and I have a sandwich with veg, or sometimes scrambled eggs or baked beans on toast.

1pm.

I see three to four clients over the course of the afternoon. Although my patients won’t notice, my own mood can be affected by the clients I see. If some are progressing well, I often feel that mirrored in my own energy. I try to schedule my patients so I don’t treat multiple individuals who have severe trauma or PTSD back to back, but practicalities get in the way, which can be tough.

It’s a unique time in my career, for all therapists. We’re experiencing the same anxieties as our patients where it comes to Covid-19, when usually we’re completely objective. The concerns the public have are the same concerns I have, as my colleagues have. Trying to contain those feelings to provide the best care for others can be challenging. I look after myself by limiting the amount of news I watch and read, but if you’re supporting someone else through their anxiety on the subject, it’s impossible to get away from it. That can feel heavy, and it isn’t going to go away. It’s accepted in psychology circles there will be a new wave of new patients seeking support very soon, and that the UK mental health system will not be able to cope.

5pm

I break for the day, have an early dinner with Tanju. I’m learning to cook and today it was home-made curry. During this break I watch a film to switch off - I’m watching a lot of comedy at the moment, it’s so important to have a little laughter. 7pm

I prep for my last patients of the day, who I see at 8 and 9. When my appointments end, I try to use closing my laptop as a mental switch that I’m done for the day, but it can be hard. I advise my patients to put their laptops away - especially right now, working excessively can be a sign of avoidance but there are healthier ways to tackle what’s happening.

How successful I am in tuning out depends on the cases I’ve had, and what’s happening in my own life. At the moment I can’t see my parents, they’re over 70, I miss them. I also lost my best friend on Easter Sunday. It’s my first real experience of loss. It’s been hard. And it’s hard to keep yourself together when you’re helping others with their suffering.

10pm.

I generally go to bed at 11pm. Before that I shower, and do a 10 minute breathing exercise. I spray lavender over my pillow, and fall asleep after an hour or so.

I feel tired tonight, drained. When you finally switch off, you notice how you feel. I hope for another good night’s sleep so I feel energised again tomorrow, so I can give the best version of myself to my patients, and start all over again.