HeyJaredThe Diary of a Psychotherapist
An eclectic selection of writing from the mind of a psychotherapist, supervisor, educator and writer. Welcome to the inner workings of my mind.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 11
- Latest publication
- Sep 25, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 17, 2026
Latest issues
Are dyslexics the true time travellers? (opens the original)
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Dyslexia used to be the bane of my life. For context the way it impacted me was firstly, the exhaustion of reading. To the point I didn’t really read for pleasure until my early 20s. Then we get to speaking, I didn’t consciously realise this was an issue for a while, but the more I examined my dyslexia the more I realised that I spend a lot of energy working hard to speak in order. If I’m not concentrating I swap words. Start a sentence with what would be the end. Or completely loose the name fo
Therapists “park” their worries. (opens the original)
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I remember a time where if I had a worry, the worms would divide and conquer. I do, at my core have a nervous disposition. Perhaps it’s because of my neurodivergence, maybe it’s growing up a closeted gay. Who knows. But I have spent over a decade in therapy dealing with it. Anyway, I am here today because I was reminded recently about how powerful a therapists ability to park their worries, their thoughts can be. Are we taught how to do this? Maybe, or do we learn it? Probably. When sitting with
The Lookout (opens the original)
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I’m searching for the right time. This Lookout, walls crumbling. I have no record of it. Sitting down at the doorway I look ahead. Forenaught Beach is in the far distance, across from the bay. The blue green water sparking in the sun like diamonds. The colours swirl as river meets sea.Behind me is the building, The Lookout, the room that I struggle to understand. No more than two meters squared. Old stone bricks line the wall in places, in other spots it appears to have been built into the cliff
Ireland my Island (opens the original)
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I think about the way I’m drawn in,To a land of giants and witches. This land calls my name,Calls me home..With green pastures,And green lakes.I’m never too far, That is known. .I traveled here for years,Never wanting to leave.I kept pining,To be closer to this green stone..Then I met a man from the land,As kind and brave as could be.He said let’s go back together,Then you won’t be so alone. .One day Ireland my Island,Will be the place that I live ‘till old
Long term therapy becomes something else (opens the original)
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I have been working as a therapist for almost 8 years qualified and working with clients 2 further years during training. So next month I will reach my first decade of working with clients. And with that it has become my normal to work with many clients long term.The longer I do this job and the longer I work with individuals in long term therapy, the m… Read more
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