Billi Silverstein MBACP Snr. Accred Psychotherapy

17/04/2026

Sleeping Beauty: The Aesthetics of Withdrawal and the Therapeutic Encounter

The fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty offers a compelling metaphor for psychological withdrawal, particularly in the context of trauma, dissociation, and defensive retreat. At its surface, the narrative presents an image of suspended animation, a young woman rendered inert yet preserved in beauty. Beneath this aesthetic stillness lies a more complex psychological phenomenon: the paradox of being both intact and unreachable.

From a psychotherapeutic perspective, the figure of Sleeping Beauty can be understood as an embodiment of protective shutdown. In the face of overwhelming experience, the psyche may resort to forms of withdrawal that resemble sleep. These are not merely passive states, but highly organised responses designed to preserve psychic integrity. The individual appears calm, composed, even idealised, yet remains inaccessible to relational engagement.

This introduces a clinical irony. The very qualities that make the individual appear “well” or “beautiful” to the outside world may function as barriers to connection. In therapy, patients who present with composure, insight, or even a certain aesthetic coherence may nonetheless be profoundly defended. Their “sleep” is not always recognised as such because it is disguised within socially acceptable or even admirable forms of functioning.

The notion of beauty in this context becomes significant. Beauty, in the symbolic sense, may represent a frozen state of development, untouched by the messiness of lived experience. It is an idealisation that halts movement. In Sleeping Beauty, time itself is suspended. Psychologically, this can be likened to trauma states in which the individual becomes fixed at a particular developmental moment, unable to integrate subsequent experiences.

In the therapeutic encounter, this presents a unique challenge. The therapist is not simply tasked with “awakening” the patient, as the fairy tale might suggest. Such an approach risks replicating intrusion or imposing an external agenda. Instead, therapy must create conditions in which the patient can gradually re-enter relational contact without threat. This involves careful attunement to the function of the withdrawal, recognising it as protective rather than pathological.

The image of the sleeping figure also raises questions about consent and timing. In the original tale, awakening occurs through an external act, often depicted as a kiss. In clinical practice, however, transformation cannot be imposed from the outside. The patient’s readiness to “wake” must emerge from within the therapeutic relationship. The therapist’s role is to remain present, consistent, and non-intrusive, offering a form of contact that does not overwhelm the existing defences.

There is also an important distinction between sleep and restoration. While sleep in its natural form is reparative, the psychological “sleep” of trauma is often static rather than regenerative. It preserves but does not transform. Therapy, therefore, is not about disrupting the sleep abruptly, but about facilitating a transition from static preservation to dynamic recovery.

The enduring appeal of Sleeping Beauty may lie in its resonance with this human experience of withdrawal. Many individuals oscillate between states of engagement and retreat, between aliveness and protective stillness. The fairy tale captures the tension between visibility and inaccessibility, between being seen and being known.

Clinically, this invites a reframing of what it means to be “reachable.” A patient may be physically present, articulate, and even emotionally expressive, yet remain psychically distant. Conversely, moments of genuine contact may occur subtly, within small shifts of affect or fleeting expressions of vulnerability. The therapist must be attuned to these nuances, recognising that awakening is often gradual and non-linear.

In this sense, Sleeping Beauty is not merely a story about awakening, but about the conditions that make awakening possible. It highlights the necessity of safety, patience, and relational presence. It also underscores the complexity of beauty as both an aesthetic and a defence.

Ultimately, the tale invites a reconsideration of what it means to be alive in a psychological sense. To be awake is not simply to be active or responsive, but to be capable of experiencing and integrating emotional reality. Therapy, at its core, is concerned with facilitating this capacity, allowing the individual to move from a state of preserved stillness into one of lived experience.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Get in touch today to consider your options.

02/04/2026

A Long Weekend in Theory

A long weekend can feel, on the surface, like an interruption to the usual rhythm of life. It promises relief, freedom, even indulgence. For some, it becomes an opportunity to push beyond ordinary limits, to socialise intensely, to drink more, to momentarily escape the constraints of structure. Yet this movement towards excess is not incidental. It reflects something deeper about our relationship to time, control, and the self.

When external structure recedes, the internal landscape becomes more exposed. The routines that ordinarily organise attention, regulate emotion, and provide a sense of continuity are temporarily suspended. What replaces them is not always rest. Often, it is a confrontation with unmediated experience. Thoughts become louder and less contained. Feelings that are usually managed through activity begin to surface with greater clarity.

The appeal of going too far can be understood, in part, as an attempt to avoid this encounter. Excess functions as a psychological strategy. It fills the space before it has the chance to feel unsettling. It keeps experience external, social, and intensified, rather than internal, reflective, and uncertain. In this sense, what appears as freedom can also be understood as a form of defence.

From a psychological perspective, structure is not merely restrictive. It serves a containing function. It shapes identity, anchors behaviour, and offers predictability. It allows for a degree of coherence in how we experience ourselves over time. Without it, even briefly, there can be a subtle sense of disorganisation. Time becomes less defined, and with that, the self can feel less clearly held.

In contrast, unstructured time, particularly when it arrives suddenly, can feel disorientating rather than liberating. The long weekend creates a tension between the desire for freedom and the discomfort of its consequences. We often imagine that more time will bring clarity, restoration, or satisfaction. Yet when that time arrives, it can reveal something more complex.

There is an existential dimension to this disillusionment. Much of contemporary life is organised into contained pockets of permitted freedom, such as evenings, weekends, and planned breaks, which are anticipated as restorative. They are invested with expectation. However, when these pockets expand, the anticipated fulfilment does not always follow. Instead, there can be a sense of deflation, even emptiness.

This raises a more difficult question. To what extent is our sense of stability dependent on the very structures we imagine ourselves needing relief from. The removal of routine does not simply create freedom. It also exposes the extent to which structure quietly sustains psychological coherence.

In this sense, time off is not simply the absence of work, but the absence of a framework that organises experience. Without it, we are left in closer contact with ourselves, without the usual mediators of productivity, obligation, or distraction. This can feel both liberating and destabilising.

A long weekend, then, is not inherently restorative. It is a psychological space in which the interplay between structure and freedom becomes visible. It may invite excess, avoidance, or reflection. More significantly, it exposes the fragile balance through which we organise our lives, and the complexity of what it means to be left, even briefly, with ourselves.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Get in touch today to consider your options.
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18/03/2026

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17/03/2026

The Spring Equinox and Mental Health A Surprisingly Complicated Relationship

Twice a year, the equinox arrives with impeccable timing and a certain astronomical elegance. Day and night briefly reach a polite agreement to share equal space, and in the Northern Hemisphere the spring equinox ushers in longer, brighter days. This is usually framed as good news, and to be fair, it often is. However, when it comes to mental health, especially in relation to Seasonal Affective Disorder SAD, the story is a little more interesting.

During winter, reduced sunlight can disrupt circadian rhythms and lower serotonin levels. The result for many people is low mood, fatigue, and a strong preference for blankets over ambition. As daylight increases, you might expect a seamless return to vitality. In reality, the brain does not operate like a well behaved light switch.

As light exposure increases, melatonin begins to drop and serotonin activity rises, but not always in perfect synchrony. This can produce a curious in between state where energy returns before emotional equilibrium has fully caught up. People may feel more alert yet oddly restless, more motivated yet slightly irritable. It is less a graceful awakening and more a biological reboot with a few unnecessary notifications.

From a psychological perspective, winter often corresponds with a more withdrawn, protective state. Spring, by contrast, invites activation. With that comes increased engagement, but also the potential for overstimulation. What looks like a sudden spike in anxiety may in fact be the nervous system stretching its legs after a long seasonal hibernation.

Supporting mental health during this transition involves moderation rather than overenthusiasm. Consistent sleep, exposure to morning light, and a measured approach to renewed energy can make all the difference.

The equinox is not simply a seasonal milestone. It is a reminder that the human mind, for all its sophistication, is still very much in conversation with the sun.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Get in touch today to consider your options.

26/02/2026

Hooked on Sweets: The Hidden Link Between Sugar and Depression

It is increasingly common to hear clients describe sugar as the thing making them feel low, flat or unstable, and from an addiction perspective this is often closer to the truth than people realise. Refined sugar acts quickly on the brain’s reward system, producing short bursts of dopamine followed by an inevitable drop. That cycle of spike and crash can leave the nervous system depleted, irritable and emotionally vulnerable. Over time, repeated use of sugar in this way can mirror other addictive patterns, where the substance offers brief relief or comfort but ultimately worsens mood regulation. Many people notice that when sugar intake is high, their emotional resilience drops and depressive symptoms intensify. What begins as a treat or a coping strategy can become a subtle but powerful driver of dysregulation.

For individuals with addiction histories, trauma backgrounds or chronic anxiety, sugar can easily take on the role of a socially acceptable substance. It is accessible, normalised and rarely challenged, yet it stimulates the same reward pathways that other addictions rely on. It can be used to numb, to soothe, to reward, to rebel or simply to get through the day. The difficulty is that while it offers momentary relief, it often deepens the very symptoms it is being used to manage. The body is left on a biochemical rollercoaster, and the emotional system follows. Clients may feel a sense of relief when they identify sugar as a cause of their low mood because it provides something concrete to hold onto, but that clarity can also be an important turning point. Recognising the addictive potential of sugar allows for a more honest conversation about regulation, dependency and self care. Reducing or eliminating refined sugar is not simply a dietary choice for some people, but a meaningful step towards stabilising mood, supporting recovery and strengthening the nervous system.

Recovery from sugar addiction requires the same honesty and steadiness we bring to other forms of dependency. The first phase is often physiological. As sugar intake reduces, clients may experience irritability, fatigue, headaches or low mood. This is not failure but withdrawal. The nervous system is recalibrating. Supporting this stage with regular balanced meals, adequate protein, sleep and gentle structure can make a significant difference. Blood sugar stability becomes a foundation for emotional stability.

Beyond the physical adjustment lies the psychological work. If sugar has been used to soothe loneliness, manage stress or soften difficult feelings, those needs do not disappear when the sugar does. They require alternative forms of regulation. This might include building relational support, developing embodied calming practices or increasing tolerance for uncomfortable affect without immediately numbing it. In trauma informed therapy, the focus is not on deprivation but on strengthening capacity. As the reliance on sugar reduces, many clients report clearer thinking, more consistent energy and a steadier mood. Recovery is not about perfection but about reclaiming agency from a substance that has quietly been shaping emotional life.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Get in touch today to consider your options.

10/02/2026

10/02/2026

For the second year running I am honoured to receive this prestigious award:

Following our merit-led research and evaluation process Billi Silverstein Psychotherapy has been recognised as the deserving recipient of:

Psychotherapist of the Year 2026 (Central London): Billi Silverstein

The GHP Mental Health Awards 2026 are here to celebrate those who change lives every day, who challenge stigma, push boundaries, and place compassion and humanity at the heart of mental health innovation.

23/01/2026

Here comes Mattel’s latest move to inclusivity. The Trainee Psychoanalytic Psychotherapist Barbie™ is doing the hard clinical work in a city where the wind from the North Sea is as biting as a supervisor’s critique.
What’s in the box?:
🤦‍♀️ Doll - sleep-deprived, make-up free, dressed in second-hand clothes.
📚 Essential readings: Freud, Klein, Bion, and Winnicott. Carried on the bus, they remind everyone that while they are reading tabloids, she is struggling through Learning from Experience.
🤱 Infant Observation Kit (a tiny mother and baby figurine). Barbie spends 1 hour every week in total silence, watching them and trying not to intervene, even when she’s dying for the loo 🚽.
📆 Clinical Diary: Filled with scribbles about object relations and transference, it is used for recording the everything she feels for her patients and the dreams she has about her training psychotherapist.
🥤 Survival Kit: A can of coke (for that 3:00 PM sugar crash during a seminar) and a laptop that is permanently 2 minutes away from a Zoom-induced breakdown.
What she CAN do:
✅ Interpret a dream while simultaneously calculating if the Tyne & Wear Metro is actually going to show up.
✅ Explain projective identification in a way that resonates with someone who has seen it all on the Wearside docks.
✅ Pay for her 3-times-weekly psychotherapy on a Sunderland salary. It’s a miracle of effective adaptation, which involves a lot of 'yellow sticker' discounts.
What she CANNOT do:
❎ Afford a Dream House: Every penny she earns goes to her training psychotherapist and towards her course fees. She lives on the outskirts of Sunderland in a damp-proofed semi-detached from 1930's.
❎ Give Advice: Instead, she will just ask "I wonder what your desire for my advice says about our relationship?"
❎ Stay Dry. No matter how much she tries to contain the unbearable, she cannot contain the North East weather.
⚠ Warning: This doll comes with a highly developed internal world, but her external world is currently under-resourced and under-funded. She may experience considerable trepidation when opening her bank app.

15/01/2026

Fascination, Admiration, and Jealousy!
Reclaiming Belonging Among Women

On the red carpet and in other highly visible spaces, the emotional boundary between fascination, admiration and jealousy can become difficult to discern. Women often speak about the quiet discomfort of standing beside others who are being celebrated for qualities that once anchored their own sense of value. In environments shaped by comparison, recognition can feel scarce, as though one person’s visibility somehow diminishes another’s.

For many, this discomfort has roots in earlier life. Growing up exceptional, whether academically, creatively or aesthetically, often brings praise and a sense of safety. Over time, achievement can become entwined with identity. Being outstanding is not simply something one does, but something one is. When adulthood introduces a peer group of equally accomplished women, that identity is challenged. Admiration for another may sit alongside a subtle fear of displacement. Fascination can carry an edge of self scrutiny. Jealousy may emerge as an unexpected companion.

What is rarely acknowledged is that these responses are not signs of insecurity or spite. They are adaptive emotional reactions to a shift in relational context. The psyche is recalibrating, moving from a world organised around distinction to one that requires coexistence. Jealousy, in this sense, is often a form of grief. Grief for the loss of singularity, and for the end of an internal contract that equated being chosen with being worthy.

When explored therapeutically, these feelings become meaningful rather than shameful. They offer insight into how self worth has been constructed and where it may need to soften and expand. As comparison is gently examined, women can begin to separate their value from constant external validation.

With support, it becomes possible to move from rivalry to relationship, from hierarchy to shared presence. Being one among many celebrated women no longer signals loss, but belonging. In that shift, admiration can deepen into connection, and celebration can exist without comparison, competition or the quiet the erosion of self-worth.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Contact me for your Clinical Supervision needs.

Get in touch today to consider your options.












* WomenInFocus
* EmotionalBoundaries
* NavigatingJealousy
* Value-Based Living
* Emotional Well-being

13/01/2026

Working with Bereavement

I work with bereavement in my psychotherapy practice with a degree of caution and humility. It has always felt like stepping into a realm where words lose their capacity to comfort, and yet, where silence can feel equally intolerable. Grief occupies a strange psychological territory. It resists the linear progression we so often wish to impose upon emotional healing. Instead, it seeps into the ordinary rhythms of life, becoming woven into our patterns of thought and behaviour in ways both subtle and profound.

In Western society, we tend to treat grief as a problem to be resolved, a process to be completed, or a chapter to be closed. This clinical neatness may offer a semblance of control, but it often denies the truth that mourning is not an event with an endpoint. It is a state of being that reconfigures one’s relationship with self and with the world. I have observed that unresolved grief often manifests as a pervasive dullness, a muted quality in one’s emotional range, an erosion of vitality. People may mistake this for recovery when, in fact, it is a quiet surrender to absence.

In contrast, I have long admired cultures in which loss is ritualised through colour, music and collective celebration. In parts of Mexico, for instance, death is greeted not with solemnity but with reverence and continuity. The Day of the Dead is not a denial of pain but a dialogue with it, allowing memory and joy to coexist. Such traditions seem to permit a psychological integration of loss that is both grounding and life affirming.

Perhaps the task, then, is not to conquer grief but to learn to live alongside it. To recognise its presence not as pathology but as a reminder of attachment, meaning and love that persists beyond absence.

Grief and bereavement, though often spoken of in tandem, are not quite synonymous. Bereavement refers to the external condition of having lost someone, the factual state of absence that alters the structure of a person’s world. Grief, however, is the internal landscape that follows, a subjective and deeply personal response to that loss. One may be bereaved yet not consciously grieving, just as one may continue to grieve long after bereavement has passed into the past tense of life. In psychotherapy, the distinction matters. Bereavement demands adjustment to circumstance; grief requires integration of meaning. One is situational, the other existential, and both demand compassion.

In psychotherapy, we explore diversity of experience with empathy and without judgement.

Contact me for your Clinical Supervision needs.

Get in touch today to consider your options.