Monday evening's session:

After a bit of chit chat (some discussion of the weather/temperature, and T noticing my new backpack) I said "I don't want to say any of the things I have to say". T said he'd heard apocryphal tales of old school analysts sitting in silence with their clients for an hour. I laughed and said that was like some sort of ridiculous competition, who would give in and speak first? He said yes, like a staring contest.

He said that he'd noticed his own process there and that he was aware he'd taken the focus away from us by saying that. He said he'd come back into the room... I said "no, don't do that!"

I said it would be easier if he was a cold, blank analyst. That then it wouldn't matter what I said to him. He said something like... "Because your words wouldn't make an impact?" and I nodded. He said... "But even when you don't say anything, you still make an impact on me." I said that was a good point.

I got the stones he gave me out of my bag to fiddle with. I remarked that they matched my outfit... T said yes, he'd noticed that I was wearing autumnal colours on a very summery day. I said I like autumnal colours.

I looked down at the stones, rolling them in my palm and listening to them click together. I said that I knew what I was about to say had no real relevance, and that I was avoiding what was really on my mind, but I was going to say it anyway.

I told him that I'd been reading a book about the the human body and the history of medicine, and the other night I had read about an ancient Celtic tradition where stones that looked like different parts of the body were considered to be healing.

(From "Adventures in Human Being" by Gavin Francis:

"Healing stones aren’t exclusive to Tibet: in the town of Killin in Scotland there are a collection of eight stones held sacred to St Fillan, a Celtic divine thought to have been active in the eighth century. The tradition holds that you take the stone that most resembles your own afflicted organ, and rub it on your body. Visitors can go to the old mill in Killin, the first of which is said to have been established by the saint, and take the stones in hand. One looks like a face, one is marked like ribs, and another has an umbilicus like a belly. There’s one that is dark and particularly smooth, and resembles a human kidney.")

I said I had found it strangely relevant to read that since, the week before, I'd told him that the jasper stone he gave me looked like a liver, and that the agate had reminded me of a heart. Which felt especially significant, since it had gone missing and been found on the morning of my appointment with the cardiologist.

I said I didn't believe that I could heal myself with stones, unfortunately, but I liked the idea. I dropped one on the floor and said "that keeps happening", and we talked a bit about how I keep almost losing them. T kept trying to emphasise that I also keep finding them, but I think he missed the point.

He asked what the agate (the stone that looks like a heart) represented to me. I said it was a symbol of strength. He asked what about my heart? I said it's literally broken. Defective.

There was an awkward pause. I was thinking of all the people in my pocket and trying to be brave. I said "...I've been annoyed with you this week..."

T was silent. I said "you're going to respond to that with silence?"... I felt afraid that I'd upset him or made him anxious. He said he was waiting for me to tell him what I'd been annoyed about.

I said there were a few things.

I said that I hadn't liked how he'd seemed to want me to express my anger. That he didn't understand the destructive power of it. I was particularly bothered by the idea that he might get a pillow for me to express it on. I said that I felt sure that if I was a big muscly man he would not treat my anger in the same way.

First of all he said that his pillow suggestion had only been that, a suggestion, an idea, and not intended as an instruction or something he thought I must do. I said I knew that, but it had still been enough to annoy me.

Then... I can't remember exactly what he said. He reflected my idea that he'd be different if I was a big man, and called me a 'slight woman' a couple of times. I guess I'm okay with that. If he'd called me a 'skinny girl' I would not have been able to forgive him.

He said that 'neither of us could ever know' if he'd treat my anger differently if I was a man. Which, upon reflection, is bollocks. On his website he says most of his clients are male. I'm sure some of them have issues with anger, and I'm sure he knows how he approaches that. I still think I am right.

He said something about how if I didn't express my anger, how could he be expected to truly understand the depth of it? I said, weakly... "But I've told you..." (And I have, many times. Told him about how destructive and painful and terrible my anger is.)

He said that he believes that holding in anger, repressing it, tends to cause people a lot of pain and that's why he was encouraging me to express it. I said that's not my bloody problem, I'm not one of those people. My problem is that I do express my anger, too often and too explosively. I can't help it.

I said that T1 had told me to get angry at him. Over and over. And when I did... He did not like it at all.

T quickly said "okay" and I felt like he didn't want to hear any more of that. Or he was thinking that it was an explanation for all my weirdness. Or... I don't know. I'm pretty sure it was all projection, anyway.

I said that I felt like parts of me needed him to be perfect. Even though other parts know that is both impossible and unfair.

He said he was hearing that I felt let down by him. I said yes.

He asked if that was how I felt about my heart... Really, this was a pretty transparent attempt at taking the heat off him and getting me to talk about my heart instead, because he obviously thinks I should talk more about that. But annoyingly it worked - tears immediately came to my eyes.

I said that my first thought had been "yes - it's a stupid piece of crap"... But then I thought "it's my fault".

He asked why I would feel that it's my fault... I said that I had been born with a dodgy heart, but I'd done plenty of things that had likely made it much worse. I'd taken lots of drugs, drank a lot of alcohol, smoked heavily for twelve years... and pregnancy is bad for my condition too. I told him the cardiologist had very seriously asked if I was planning to have children, and told me that it could be dangerous and I should have surgery first. I said it had been funny almost, because I didn't care - in fact it's nice to have an excuse. He asked what that meant, to have an excuse? I said that society judges people who choose not to have children. Now I had a medical reason not to. We talked a bit about my reasons.

I noticed there were nine minutes left, and said that I wanted to use them to express the other thing I'd been avoiding. I said another thing I'd been annoyed about had been 'this' and held up the jasper. He said "the third stone?"

I said yes. I felt really anxious, so I tried to explain that to him. I said I felt afraid to express myself because different parts of me had very conflicting feelings about it, and I felt stuck between them. He suggested that I let them both speak in turn, give them a few minutes each.

I asked if he would hear them both equally. He promised to try his best to.

I said that the part that feels annoyed about being given the jasper feels that it was about him, not me - or even worse, that it could have been about P (my partner). That she thinks he might be being competitive or needing to prove himself right. But that she isn't really sure what it was about or why he did it, so she feels confused and suspicious.

He asked if I wanted him to respond now, or after both parts had spoken. I said after both.

I said the other part liked being given the stone. That she liked the idea that he'd thought about me. That she liked being given something by him, whatever the reason.

I'm finding it hard to remember his response that well, I think because I was quite emotional and my memory doesn't tend to work that well when I am.

He said something about having taken a childlike pleasure in sharing something with me. He said that I'd hit upon an interest of his (but it was him that gave me the stones originally and told me what they were, it's not like I'd just happened to guess out of nowhere...) He said, in a way that I felt was respectful of my feelings, that he didn't think he had been needing to be right or prove himself. Only that he'd been enthusiastic about showing me something. He said that at the time he had also thought I'd lost the agate stone and that I might want a replacement (this doesn't make sense, because I had told him in an email that I'd found the agate, and he even referenced that email when he gave me the jasper...)

He suggested that I could leave the jasper there if I wanted to. In fact I think he used his favourite therapy-speak "how might it feel to...?"

I said "nope, no way" and explained that the part of me that had liked being given it would not give it up.

He asked if both parts had felt heard by him. I said I wasn't sure. That I probably wouldn't know till later. I said that I thought what he'd said had been helpful, anyway. That I felt a bit better.

I didn't know till I reached the bus stop, when I suddenly felt bad...