Last March my T went temporarily mad and announced that everything she'd done was a mistake. She'd been too available, too self-disclosing, and she was taking it all away. She chose my birthday to make this announcement. It was awful, the pain was beyond belief. It took away all the healing there'd ever been.

I went back. We tried to work it out. But there was just no way forward. We ended my session the first week in April with the agreement that I would write a letter to T explaining my reasons for requesting a new therapist, and she'd discuss with the other therapists whether one of them could take me. I was so distressed that I felt too unsafe to leave the building. I went and sat in the toilets and asked T for skills coaching help to get home safely. While I waited, I wrote the letter requesting a change of therapist. When she got back to me a few hours later, she told me I was locked in the building as the last T of the day had gone home by now. Because she didn't drive, she had to send her husband round to let me out.

I was utterly horrified. I felt desperate that I'd caused so much trouble. I was terrified she'd be angry and think I'd done it on purpose to get her attention. I was going through a phase where I didn't even want to think about T having a life, let alone have to deal with her husband. I even told her that I'd lied and I wasn't in the building after all. He came over anyway- more terror. I was on my own in a dark building with a man, and so afraid he'd hurt me. I was sitting on the toilet floor, too frightened to open the door. And then I realised, I didn't have to trust him, or know anything about him. T trusted him, and had chosen him as the father of her daughter, and had sent her to me. I just needed to trust T. And I found that even after everything, I did trust T.

The next day, I thought about how T, knowing that I had historically made false allegations of sexual abuse against men, sent her husband into the building that night because she was worried about me. When I thanked her, she said she hadn't given it a second's thought, because she knows and trusts me. She assured me that she wasn't angry, and she knew I hadn't done it on purpose. She thought the best of me, when she had every reason to think the worst of me. And that day, I resolved to think the best of her. It didn't make it easy, and it took us months to properly recover from what she'd done, but I had decided and I never looked back.

It's not all roses. We've got a break coming up, and today was a wobbly session. But just tonight I wanted to mark the moment when T and I chose to put it all aside, and think the best of each other. And sitting here wrapped in T's blanket and knowing that she loves me, the thought of all I would have missed if I hadn't got locked in the toilet(!) that day doesn't bear thinking about.