Jane Barclay, Therapeutic Counselling & Psychotherapy Exeter

04/12/2025

04/12/2025

A promot, reminder, in the gentlest way - that our menfolk need encouragement to take care of themselves

Thanks for visiting my fundraising page. I’m going to be taking on the 12 Dips of Christmas Challenge this December to help raise money for Cancer Research UK. Please show your support and help fund life-saving cancer research by donating to my page.

02/12/2025

https://fundraise.cancerresearchuk.org/page/janes-giving-page-42371

Hi, this is my invitation to donate anything you can spare from your Christmas budget to Prostate Cancer Research. To encourage you, I'm committed to my 12 dips in December challenge, which isn't hardship for me since I love to wallow in any puddle I find - sea, river, Dartmoor-jaccuzzi...
Big thankyous to those who have already brought the sum over my original target of £150. I'm now 'moving the goalpost' to £300. Not as a success/fail thing, simply to motivate and encourage.
This research is important. Testing for Prostate Cancer - I learn more as I become more involved - can produce 'false positives' and 'false negatives', which makes the decision to go for screening more debate-able and therefore more anxiety-inducing than, say, my regular appointment for mammogram. All testing is anxiety-inducing since it raises questions around mortality, especially early 'unplanned' mortality. Out of our control, which is one of the 'big ones'...
Reminding of course of any previous and/or anticipated moment if helplessness. Yes, I'm talking Trauma, which is what being with Cancer, first-hand or witness, certainly us. Threatens life. Sometimes denied, often avoided, hence the reluctance sometimes to go for screening.

So, any amount at all will be welcomed - thank you. And I'm looking forward to swim 2/12 today, tide and wave-height permitting!

Thanks for visiting my fundraising page. I’m going to be taking on the 12 Dips of Christmas Challenge this December to help raise money for Cancer Research UK. Please show your support and help fund life-saving cancer research by donating to my page.

25/11/2025

A story - of non-confrontational exchange, medicine-at-work: I'm driving home from Exeter, it's just after 8 on Sunday evening, I'm feeling thoroughly stretched and massaged after 5 rhythms dancing, delicious self-choreographed story-telling where body leads and mind follows. I reach the junction where to turn right and head for Dawlish I stay in the left of two right-turn lanes; mine also indicates straight on. As I approach, the lights turn green, I'm checking my side as well as rear mirror and see the blue flashing light I'd noticed close behind coming up alongside - presumably to turn right in parallel.
It's the sound I register a nano second before body impact: a giant fist scrunching up a giant coke can, and then comes the jolt of the side-swipe of a dodgem car. Only this one is a van, an ambulnce, twice the size of my trusty Peugot 206.
First thought, 'should I have pulled over?' Second thought, 'its siren wasn't going'. Third thought, 's..t, more admn'. I complete the turn, pull over, turn off the engine, 'wind' my window down a bit, and breathe. Out first.
It's a dark, wet Sunday evening. I hear the hiss of tyres from the occasional passing car. I start to fumble for a pen and wait, not ready to 'get started'. I re-see what-happened: I'm clear as to my stance, that the ambulance van had driven - trying to go straight on to Sainsbury's petrol? - into my side (officially off-side, though nearest me).

It's then the magic (aka healing) starts.

A woman walks towards me, lots of yellowy uniform and a hat which she takes off. Short, light-brown hair, 50-something, maybe younger, soft face. I lower my window down fully. 'Are you hurt?' she asks. I hear enquiry flavoured with concern, not need-your-details-implied-my-fault- bark I'm expecting. Warm, though shaky, not cold and impersonal. My prepared defence eases into replying to reassure her.
From the outset we are in dialogue, thanks to my 'teacher'. 'I must have taken the turn too wide, I'm sorry' she says. 'You know you're not supposed to say that - and I appreciate it,' I answer. I think she'll probably get into trouble later: in our right/wrong/ blame-and-punish culture, she's admitted 'fault'. In my world and hers, she's owning responsibility. The outcome might be the same, but the process leaves me with no residual blame-anger, and I hope leaves her, when shaking subsides, shame-free.
At least til she gets back to her station. Will she be ticked off for her 'sorry', applauded or have that moment erased in order to go for 'knock-for-knock'...? Will her younger colleague remind her she shouldn't have 'admitted liability' will she tell her? The younger one's manner, taking my details after we drivers have walked back to the van, is brisk and impersonal. (The older woman hands me a form with their details she's just filled in.) 'Any injuries?' she adds, after she has my name etc. 'No, though since I, my car, has just been hit by your truck, you could make eye contact with me...' I stop, hearing my tone. 'I'm just getting this down', she carries on writing. 'Yes,' I say, calmer; not the way, defence-aggressive, ending injuring another. I just stand, wait. She looks up, and I see the person, young, and not-so-sure, hiding behind officialdom. Thank you,' I say quietly. 'Are you sure you're not hurt? echoes 'my' driver. ''do you have far to go, are you ok to drive?' My eyes water, I reassure her, say I just want to get home now. She comes with me to my car, 'I do need to take photographs of the damage.' And as I write, I hope, a bit teary, she's the one who sits with someone who's been assaulted, saying gently, 'I'm sorry... they'll need to take some pictures.'
My door grinds a little as I open to get back in. I'm back in my cocoon, unaware of her. I ease out into the road, consciously coaching myself to indicate/mirror/manoeuvre. I drive home, blank apart from further remind-driving instructions.
Now, in the morning, I feel the call to tell the narrative. It's what we have, as humans, to help 'shake out' residual shock-aloneness and rejoin the pack. I hear 'that' voice behind my right ear saying not to fuss, such a minor incident, think of all... ' I don't tell her to shush. I know she''s anxious, ''what will people think, do..', would prefer to use the other method, of forgetting. I reassure her, she quietens, and I complete my story.
With a smile, that what I realised when I became determined to discover 'what makes people tick', approx 60 years ago, that 'it's what happens afterwards that makes the difference', is so. Thanks to folk who've read to the end.

15/11/2025

Exactly- the relationship itself IS the therapy, a someone to dare risk trusting with not only telling but with being vulnerable, and feeling exposed, that comes in the telling.
If it's shame that sends, then keeps, painful and terrifying experiences secret (hidden for safety's sake), then shame is bound to accompany bringing that secret into the light, to be told, deshamed, grieved over - all the while held by the increasingly trusted other person.
How else could anyone, I, reopen my heart? To myself, to others?
See 'Does Therapy Work?'
www.jbcounselling.co.uk

13/11/2025

The healing power of creativity at work...

08/11/2025

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