Monthly Spotlight

Feeling Sad - it's a human thing...

Feeling sad is a human thing. It can feel like a grey cloud that won’t lift, a heaviness in your chest, or a kind of numbness that makes everything seem a bit far away. Sometimes it follows something obvious - a loss, a change, a fallout. Sometimes it creeps in for no apparent reason. Most of us feel sad from time to time, and it passes. When it hangs around and starts to shape how you think, sleep, eat, work, and relate to people, therapy can help.

In an integrative approach, I don’t force you into one method. Think of it like a toolkit: we look together at what you need and pick the tools that fit—rather than trying to make you fit the tools. We’ll look at your thoughts and habits, your relationships, your body and nervous system, and what matters to you day to day. It’s practical where it needs to be, gentle where it needs to be, and always tailored to you.

We begin by helping you make sense of your sadness. When did it begin? What was happening around that time? How does it show up—in your body (tight chest, heavy limbs), in your mind (self-criticism, worry), and in your routines (staying in, cancelling plans, skipping meals)? We’ll draw a simple map of what keeps the sadness going. For many people, feeling low leads to withdrawing from others; isolation then deepens the sadness; round it goes. Seeing the loop is the first step to loosening it. We’ll also agree on a few small, clear goals, like sleeping a bit better, getting back to a hobby, or finding

words for feelings that have felt stuck.

Let’s steady the body first. Low mood often knocks out the basics: sleep, food, movement, and simple pleasures. A helpful daily guide is

“nurture–move–soothe–achieve”:

Nurture: one caring thing for your body (a proper meal, a warm shower you don’t rush).

Move: a few minutes of movement (a short walk, gentle stretches).

Soothe: something that calms you (music, a bath, mindful breathing).

Achieve: one small, doable task (send an email, put a wash on, pay a bill).

None of this is about pretending to be cheerful. It’s about giving your nervous system enough steadiness to do the deeper work. Short grounding practices can help when the heaviness spikes. The 5-4-3-2-1 exercise (notice five things you can see, four you can feel, three you can hear, two you

can smell, one you can taste) brings you back to the present. A three-minute breathing space—notice, breathe, choose one small helpful action—can be surprisingly settling.

We’ll also look at your thinking patterns in a practical way. When we’re sad, thoughts often become harsh and absolute: I always mess things up, no one wants me around, nothing will change. Instead of forcing “positive thinking” (which usually backfires), we aim for balanced thinking. We’ll learn to catch an unhelpful thought, check the evidence, and choose a kinder, truer version. For example, I’m a failure because I’m having a tough week and I’ve dropped a few balls, but I’ve handled hard things before and can do one small step today. If you find yourself stuck in loops of worry or replaying old scenes, we’ll practise “containment”—setting aside a short slot to think about it, then gently bringing your attention back to what you’re doing, again and again. It’s a skill that improves with practice.

Another piece is learning to make room for feelings rather than battling them. Pushing sadness away often makes it push back harder. Together we’ll practise noticing it—where you feel it in your body, what it’s asking for—while still taking tiny steps towards what matters to you. Ask: if I didn’t have to get rid of this feeling first, what small action could I take that fits my values? That might be texting a friend, doing ten minutes of a task, or stepping outside for air. Over time, you build the sense that feelings can be present, and you can still move.

We’ll also explore the story behind your sadness. For some, it’s about old patterns—having to be “the strong one,” not being allowed to show need, or growing up in a home where feelings were ignored. Sometimes sadness is sitting on top of other emotions: anger you weren’t allowed to express, fear that felt too big, longing that was never met. In therapy, we put gentle words to these layers. We pay attention to how they show up between us in the room—do you worry about burdening me, do you expect me to go cold, do you fear I’ll leave? This isn’t about blame; it’s about understanding the script you were given so that you can write a kinder one.

Relationships matter. Low mood can shrink your world until home and bed feel like the only safe places. Using straightforward tools, we’ll look at what helps and what harms in your current connections. Do you hint rather than ask? Do you always say yes, only to feel resentful later? Do you vanish when

things get hard? We might plan a gentle reconnection (a short coffee, a phone call), practise saying no without a long explanation, or draft a few lines for a difficult conversation. You don’t need a huge social circle. One or two steady people, combined with a simple weekly structure (such as a class, a group, or a volunteer hour), can help prevent isolation from taking over.

Compassion is the thread through all of this. Many people speak to themselves in a tone they’d never use with a friend. We’ll practise a kinder voice. One exercise is to write a short letter to yourself from the perspective of someone who truly cares about you—naming the struggle, acknowledging the effort you’re making, and offering encouragement. Notice how your body responds when your inner tone softens: shoulders drop, breath eases, jaw unclenches. Compassion isn’t fluffy; it’s the shift that allows you to keep going.

As your mood begins to lift, we’ll build a simple plan to keep you steady. We’ll list early warning signs (sleep slipping, cancelling plans, getting sharper with yourself), and a “first-aid” response (message X, go for a ten-minute walk, restart nurture–move–soothe–achieve, book a session). Life will still bring ups and downs; the aim isn’t to never feel sad, but to have confidence that you can meet sadness without it swallowing the whole week.

Sometimes sadness becomes very heavy, persistent hopelessness, thoughts of not wanting to be here, or difficulty functioning. If that’s happening, we’ll focus on safety first. It can help to see your GP to check physical contributors (thyroid, iron levels, side effects of medication) and to discuss options alongside therapy. In the UK, you can self-refer to the NHS Talking Therapies, or we can continue privately if that suits you better.

If you’re in immediate danger, call 999. If you need to talk now, you can call Samaritans 24/7 on 116 123, or contact NHS 111 for urgent advice.

Above all, you don’t have to do this alone. Integrative therapy meets you where you are. We combine steadiness for your body, clarity for your mind, warmth for your heart, and meaning for your story. Sadness doesn’t need to be argued with or pushed away; it needs a safe place to be understood, and small, realistic steps back towards connection, purpose, and moments of light. One gentle step at a time is still progress—and often, it’s precisely the kind of progress that lasts; quick fixes don't last - like a plaster will lose its stickiness and come off, the same with quick fixes....

Please do feel free to reach out if you are ready to take some steps....