My sessions are spent making my T try to read my mind. Sometimes I'll say some stuff, beat around the bush. Other times I'm trying to keep from dissociating away and almost forget T is there. Watching me.

Sometimes I bring her something I've written, and that is always a good thing. Then she reads it while I try to make myself disappear through sheer force of will. Then she asks me if we can talk about what I've written, and I say yes. She asks me some questions to clarify things. Then she basically tells me what my writing tells her and relates it to my experiences and offers alternative ways of thinking.

There are really long silences while my T patiently waits for me to stop being such a headcase and talk. I sit in stubborn or dissociative silence until she asks me what I'm thinking or if I feel safe. I mumble something and we go back and forth until she can make out my words. Then I spend some time trying to read the titles of her books. Then go back to obsessing over what I should tell her, what I shouldn't tell her, and what horrible things she must be thinking when she looks at me. Sometimes I try to work up the courage to look at her, especially when she's talking so that she knows I'm listening. I usually can't, but do sometimes look at her shoes.

Then she tells me we're out of time and I flee before anything bad can happen.