I have told my T the following things:

That my ex refused to use condoms. That in theory I wasn't happy with this, but it was like someone hitting you: you don't know what you might tolerate until you're already tolerating it.

That I used to fantasise about him dying so I would be free. That I felt like I was too far in to a bad relationship, too far down the rabbit hole, to leave. That's how I felt about the man in my bed.

I didn't tell him that I stopped wanting to sleep with him three years before we broke up.

That I once went to my doctor and lied, saying I had been raped in the past, because I thought that would make them refer me for counselling. That this wasn't true. It was a lie. I made it up.

I stopped and looked at all the things I have told him. And the things I haven't. And what you might call that. And I started shaking. And my hands went numb.

I am waiting to hear back from my T who is trying to sort out an extra session for me. The world seems like a very cold and frightening place. I don't know that I wanted to know this. I don't know how I didn't know this.