The counsellor

By: Shaz McGann

Worth a try

They told me I had to go

And see the counsellor.

The one you see

When you're going crazy.

She hides in a tiny dingy room

Upstairs In D Block,

Where all the teachers hang out.

At first I said no,

And stamped my foot angrily.

'I'm not crazy'.

I told them repeatedly

Until I got tired of fighting

And then,

Just to shut them up

I went to see her.

I thought she'd tell me

That it was all my fault.

But she didn't.

She let me talk about what I wanted

And she listened.

Sometimes she asked questions,

And sometimes she told me things,

But mostly she listened.

It was like I had been holding my breath

And suddenly I was allowed to

Let

It

All

Out.

Bit by bit,

Any way I wanted.

She showed me ways to relax,

And helped me study.

We talked about problems at home,

Problems at school,

And how to deal with them.

Every time I saw her I walked out calmer.

I felt better.

Seeing the counsellor

Helped me put things back In perspective.

To deal with things,

And then move on.

It wasn't about being crazy,

It was about being happy

About being me.