There have been moments when I felt incredibly vulnerable, almost like hiding; it was like I lacked skin. It was almost painful. I told my therapist that that was going on, and he stopped allowing the trauma work to proceed so that he could re-connect with me and make sure I felt seen in a safe way, not in an exposed way.

At other times, I thought some of what I was saying was just too awful; it made me feel monstrous. He actually held my hand firmly and said that I needed to get out all this poison and give it to him. He said it with an urgency on his face. I later said that I didn't want to poison him with my toxic stuff. He smiled and just said that I was compassionate but didn't need to worry.