April Is Counseling Awareness Month: Choosing to Heal, One Conversation at a Time

Tammy Landsiedel
Apr 24
4 min read

April is Counseling Awareness Month—and honestly, I think it’s long overdue that we talk about what that really means.

It fascinates me (and kind of pisses me off, to be honest) that there’s still a stigma around counseling. Like needing help means you're weak, broken, or failing somehow. The truth? Most of us have silently bought into that stigma at some point. I know I did. I denied myself the support I needed for years, telling myself I could manage it all on my own. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Counseling Is Not Weakness—It’s a Lifeline

Counseling isn’t just sitting on a couch and talking to someone who nods a lot. It’s science-backed. It’s healing. It’s hard work. It’s transformation.

Research consistently shows that talk therapy can significantly improve mental health outcomes. According to the American Psychological Association, psychotherapy is effective in treating depression, anxiety, trauma-related disorders, and more. In fact, about 75% of people who engage in therapy report symptom relief and improved overall functioning (APA, 2016).¹ It’s also been proven to help people build coping strategies, change negative thinking patterns, and improve relationships. And it works whether you’re in crisis or just trying to better understand yourself.

I’m currently seeing two different counselors. One is specifically for grief—the deep, soul-wrecking grief that comes from losing my son and my father, both within days of each other. On top of that, there’s the grief I still carry for my mother, who passed away years ago but left a wound I never really acknowledged, let alone treated. Turns out grief stacks. It multiplies. And when we don’t deal with it, it gets heavy. So heavy that we forget who we are.

The Hidden Mess We Carry

When I lost my mom in 2010, I lost a huge part of myself, too. But I buried it. Swallowed it. I had to function. My son, who was just as shattered, spiraled into addiction, disappearing for days, sometimes weeks. I worried about him while trying to process my own heartbreak, and that meant shoving my feelings aside just to survive.

Fast forward to losing him, and all of that grief exploded like a damn time bomb. I went straight into anger mode—anger at him for not taking better care of himself, anger at my mom for somehow “stealing him away,” anger at myself for “letting” it happen. Of course, none of it made sense. But that’s how grief works. It defies logic. It just hurts. And when you don’t have help, that pain finds the darkest corners of your mind and stays there.

Grief Counseling: Making Space for Pain

My grief counselor has been a godsend. One of the first things she told me is that they no longer strictly follow the “five stages of grief” model—and thank god for that, because grief is not linear. It’s a goddamn rollercoaster with no seatbelts. She’s helped me see that what I’m going through is not just valid—it’s necessary. She helps me make room for my grief, instead of constantly shoving it down.

I don’t feel as alone now. Not because I wasn’t surrounded by people who love me, but because I finally let someone into the part of me that was screaming for help.

IFS Therapy: Finding the Pieces of Me

The second counselor I see is helping me through something called IFS therapy (Internal Family Systems). It’s not about your family, per se, but about the parts of yourself. The parts that are buried. The ones you exiled a long time ago because they were inconvenient, emotional, hurt, or scared. IFS teaches you to reconnect with those parts—to learn from them, understand them, and care for them.

It’s been gut-wrenching. Eye-opening. Sometimes, even beautiful. I’ve cried. I’ve felt nauseous after sessions. I’ve also felt empowered, safe, and even loved by myself. I’m learning to be kind to the me who’s been through hell. I’m learning that I am still here, and I am still worthy.

Starting Counseling in Alberta

If you’re in Alberta and wondering where to even start, try Access Mental Health. One phone call and they’ll help guide you toward the support you need. I started at the Calgary Counselling Centre, and I can’t recommend them enough. They have student counselors who are passionate, dedicated, and supported by a team of experienced professionals. They helped me through the roughest patch until my grief and IFS therapies could begin.

There is no shame in talking to someone. There is no failure in needing help. Honestly, the failure would’ve been to keep suffering alone when there are people out there ready to help me carry the weight.

Let This Be the Year You Choose You

If you are struggling—if the grief, anxiety, confusion, or just the weight of it all feels like too much—talk to someone. Please. It was the best decision I finally came to terms with. I’m still learning how to let myself feel better. But I’m here now. I chose myself. And I’ll keep choosing me.

You deserve to choose you, too.

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