The pathway to becoming a Health Psychologist

Hello everyone and welcome to our next instalment of the pathways to Psychology blog. This blog post highlights the journey to studying Health Psychology, an often lesser known and under-appreciated area of Psychology. Dr Sula Windgassen writes openly and encouragingly not only about her own experiences which ultimately encouraged her to pursue this path, but also of the crucial role of both clinical practice and research, to better understand and support individuals who live with long term health conditions. Thank you Dr Windgassen for your generous and frank post, which we believe will inspire many aspirant Psychologists, interested in pursuing Health Psychology as a career. 

                                        

Dr Sula Windgassen, Health Psychologist, CBT Therapist and EMDR Therapist

I was fascinated by Health Psychology when I was studying undergraduate Psychology. I had a passion for Psychology that seems to gradually dilute as I heard how competitive it was. It wasn’t conscious, but I felt stumped before I’d properly started. And so, I dabbled in marketing and was quickly promoted (some would say prematurely) to marketing manager at a small tech company. Here I did good work, but as the novelty wore off, it became less exciting and more onerous and pressured. My friends had all left the university town and I was now working 9-5 and feeling the strain. All the promise in uni had seemed to evaporate without my realising. I felt lonely but I didn’t know it. And then came the bladder symptoms. 

I’d been prone to having urinary tract infections in my youth and they had come back with a vengeance, only this time antibiotics weren’t getting rid of them, and the physical sensations seemed to chop and change but never leave. I became more stressed, more isolated and convinced that these symptoms would never leave. This was my life now. All the things I didn’t know I valued, seemingly unreachable. 

As my emotional state deteriorated, my symptoms worsened, and my outlook became gloomier. I wasn’t just sad, I was angry. I was angry that no one else had to think about going to the toilet. Had to fear it as I did. That they could enjoy their lives and take them for granted. And no one seemed to care that I felt so bad. Of course, that’s not to say that no one cared. That’s just how it felt. 

Serendipitously, whilst this was happening, my dad was doing a Masters in Mindfulness. He suggested I start practicing, which I greeted with scepticism and disdain. Did he not realise I had a physical health issue? Even more fortunate for me, was that his partner was a Clinical Psychologist specialising in pain. She was able to explain to me how my central nervous system was operating. How my emotional and cognitive states may actually be having a role in maintaining my physical discomfort. This piqued my interest and so I gave my dad the benefit of the doubt and started practicing daily Mindfulness with him. We started with the body scan. By this time, I was signed off work because I’d started to experience excruciating migraines too. 

Now, I won’t present this as a miracle cure, that switched off my symptoms and sent me singing on my way, but something shifted. Layers of despair gradually lifted it and in its place some form of hope emerged. This laid the foundation for my healing journey. Within 6 months I was in a much different place, back at work, although not enjoying it, but able to function. With some healthy encouragement from my partner, I decided to take the leap to go back to uni and study Health Psychology. I wanted to find out more about our mind’s ability to affect our body. 

That summer I was interviewed for the first independent cohort of the Health Psychology MSc at King’s College London, and got a place. My dissertation was an assessment of skype delivered Mindfulness for progressive Multiple Sclerosis and the results (now published) were heartening. What’s more, my contact with the participants really brought alive how powerful psychological interventions could be for those with chronic physical health issues. My placement during that year was in a mindfulness group of individuals with a range of long-term health conditions and again, I saw, the powerful processes at play when people turned towards their experience in a way that we are not taught to do day to day. 

From there, I embarked on a PhD. This was a part time PhD at King’s College whilst working part time on the largest randomised controlled trial to date of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy for Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Over those four years I learnt so much clinically and academically. I observed the amazing, skilful work of experienced therapists working in South London and Maudsely, supervised by Professors Trudie Chalder and Rona Moss-Morris. I saw participant transformations and the energy that returned as they began to feel a sense of control over their lives again. 

My PhD looked at the therapeutic mechanisms. How and why does therapy physically improve symptoms? The results of my PhD highlighted how important it was to turn towards the experience of physical illness in a way that does not pathologise the distress people feel when they are physically impacted. To understand key mechanisms of action and empower people to make changes in areas they can exert control over. In the context of CBT therapy, this is specific illness related thoughts and behaviours. 

During this stretch of four years, I also completed my Health Psychology Doctoral qualification with the British Psychological Society. I filled my “spare” time with clinical and practical courses and conducted supervised therapeutic interventions. At the end of this period I began a post-doctoral role, developing a CBT based intervention for Inflammatory Bowel Disease but I was aware that I wanted to develop my clinical skills. I knew a lot about the application of therapeutic applications to health conditions, but I didn’t have a broader picture. If mental and physical health is so interconnected, it made no sense to neglect understanding in one domain. 

It is then that I completed a postgraduate diploma in CBT, still at King’s, whilst working in an NHS IAPT service close to where I lived. I will always think on this year fondly. The CBT training was intensive, and the practical application was a steep learning curve. My local area is a deprived one and that presented lots of challenges for the population visiting my service. The population is also very diverse, which afforded me the opportunity to actively think about how different cultural, ethnic, financial, and other sociodemographic factors, impact on the therapeutic process. I will always be grateful for this experience and humbled by the amazing people I worked with. 

After finishing the diploma, I was promoted to Lead of the long term conditions pathway, navigating connections between our service and others to improve the integration of physical and mental healthcare provision. This is not an easy task and structural processes can really get in the way of this ambition within the NHS. I was then promoted to Senior CBT Therapist and had a baptism of fire into a managerial role, which I grew to enjoy, but definitely took a lot from me. 

In the backdrop of all of this, I maintained my research activities, collaborating with researchers at King’s College and Vanderbilt University. I liked the mix of clinical and research work. When the pandemic hit, I was probably already doing a bit too much, but this took a lot of my coping and release strategies away (as it did for most of us unless you’re a member of the Conservative party). I was going at full speed and the demands of work were piling on as people were feeling more isolated and despairing, only now I was working in my bedroom where I slept, and I did not have the opportunity to casually debrief with colleagues as I came out of my therapy room. 

One day my supervisor commented that she’d seen my eyes change over the preceding months and was worried about me. It hadn’t occurred to me that anything was that wrong as I was used to pushing through, but it resonated. When the world started opening up again, our service was different. We had to work in siloed rooms, and I didn’t feel as connected. I also reflected that my managerial role had taken me away from my passion, which is Health Psychology. I had less time for research and less time for a clinical caseload. 

It was this, plus a combination of other life circumstances that made me decide to leave the NHS and work privately. It felt like a risk, but it was a calculated one and one intended to enable me to have a better work-life balance, focussed on work that I was really interested and passionate in. That brings us to the present day. I work for my own clinical practice, Mind Body Blossom (www.healthpsychologist.co.uk), seeing a range of patients and providing consultancy services. One thing that allowed me to make this transition was my Health Psychology focussed Instagram account @the_health_psychologist_ . I used it to help me make sense of, and disseminate, information that was interesting to me and I thought could help others. The page has grown, and it has opened some brilliant opportunities for me. 

I am so grateful for all of the support I have had at every step of the way and I am always pleased to provide whatever support I can for others. 

                                                            

We hope this blog post has offered you food for thought, maybe you were considering studying a postgraduate qualification in Psychology, or perhaps you were curious to find out more about all the Practitioner roles within the field of Psychology. Let us know any questions or comments you may have. 

We welcome all Practitioner Psychologists, whether qualified or in training, to write for the blog, as the more experiences we could share, the more we could highlight the expertise, skills and qualities within this field. Please get in touch if you would like to write a blog post.

Kind regards,

The Pathways team.