An epic account of Monday's session:

Had my first post-holiday session on Monday. I usually see T on Thursday evenings but he'd suggested that we reschedule to the Monday this week because I'd been lamenting the fact that I wouldn't see him for twenty-one days. So it was eighteen instead.

I was pretty certain that I was the only client he saw that day, and the first client he'd seen after his holiday. That felt kind of weird. I felt kind of bad for being so needy.
As I was waiting at the door I heard the clatter of plates in the front room, someone clearing the table I guess, and when I went in I could smell food. I'm not sure what it was but it smelt pretty good.

We went in and sat down and T said that he had his brother and brother's girlfriend staying, so I might hear them. I said that was okay - although last time his brother was there he was coughing a lot which was annoying. There was some confusion about when that was…

T pointed out that I'd been working on a bank holiday (I'd had to make our appointment an hour later because of work) and I said that I've always worked on bank holidays so I don't really understand them - they're meaningless to me. I used to work in a pub so if anything they just meant more work - a busy night on a Sunday.

We talked about the fact that we'd rescheduled to make the break shorter. I said I was glad to be there but also bothered that it'd be another ten days before I saw him again. He took the hint and said we could have a session on Thursday too if I wanted (in fact, he spoke more generally and made it clear that extra sessions were an option.) I told him that I had a hospital appointment the next day and so (to process that) I would probably like to see him on Thursday too. He said I could see how things went and let him know. I agreed to that, even though I knew perfectly well that I would want to do it. This will be the first time we'll ever have arranged an extra session. I can't really afford it, but f*** it. I'm doing a few extra shifts this week.

I said I’d spent the first week that he’d been away feeling bad about some of the things I’d said in the last session. I’d talked about the things I look for when I’m looking for a therapist online, and the things that I will automatically count them out for, and I’d said that if their directory profile or website is badly spelt or punctuated or generally badly written then I won’t consider them. I had been quite scathing about it. I told him that I regretted that, and I was worried he'd think I was a s***ty person. I said I wanted to clarify that I don't have a problem with people not being able to write or spell very well in general - everyone has different things that they're good and bad at and that's okay with me. It's just that I expect a certain level of care when it's someone's professional profile I'm looking at, and I think if they're not great at writing they should get someone to proofread it for them. Not that hard!

T said he hadn't felt that I was being a s***ty person. He said he'd been struck by how seriously I take looking for a therapist and how important it is to me that they're right for me. I didn't disagree with that appraisal…

I laughed and said “I didn't even get on to telling you about the next stage!”, then I told him about how I look all my potential therapists up on social media, and if they have “eight thousand f***ing pictures of them and their family, or them and their friends, or them up a mountain, or whatever” then they can't be my therapist. T looked slightly worried and asked if he showed up on social media. I told him that all that shows up for him is a picture of a lizard. He took a second to think about that and then his face lit up - “oh, the green one?” - I said yes, and that he'd passed that test just fine, I love the lizard picture. He said that he loves it too. It was weird to finally get that out in the open, and his reaction was… adorable. He seemed pleased that I appreciate it!

At some point in this discussion he also briefly mentioned his own experience of looking for a therapist and finding one with a photograph on their website that looked like “a mugshot of one of the Kray twins”. That made me laugh a lot. I have also come across some really, really bad pictures.

This led quite smoothly onto my current attempts at finding a new therapist. I told T that I'd met with two while he'd been away - S the first week, and C the second. He asked how it had gone with them. I said that S lived in one of those ridiculous mansions out on the edge of town, and described how she’d led me up a palatial staircase to get to the therapy room. I said I’d found that off-putting, and T seemed to understand. I said that she was… okay, that we’d got on alright, but when I came out all I could think was how much I missed him. I said I couldn’t really imagine working with her.

Then I told him about C. First of all, after quietly saying to myself “am I going to say this?” I admitted that he has the same name as… “certain other previous therapists of mine…” This was the first time I'd ever said T1's actual name (even if I did it in a roundabout way) - I have always referred to him by the initial C. It was a relief to do it actually, and it was the second long-hidden thing to be brought into the open during that session. T actually seemed slightly relieved by it too, and amused at the way I'd done it.

Then I explained how I’d seen him doing a workshop back in November, thought he was great and had him in mind as a potential future supervisor. How I hadn't originally thought of him when searching for a new T, but actually he fits all the criteria really well. I described him pretty much the same as I described him in a post here - intelligent, eloquent, genuine, empathic… and lovely. I said I was pretty certain that he was the right therapist for me, except perhaps for the fact that he might be… too lovely.

T asked what I meant by that and I explained that, given my feelings for T1 (very intense erotic transference), it seemed like a risk to choose to see someone who I found to be so likeable and attractive. T said that if those kinds of feelings did surface again, perhaps I would be able to work with them this time and properly process them - hopefully it would go very differently to the way it did with T1, and that could actually be a really good thing. I agreed, and added that I thought C was very, very different to T1 in his approach and manner - almost the opposite in fact. So things would surely progress differently.

I also talked about finding out C's age (he is exactly the same age as me) and what that had stirred up for me. T thought that this might be another good opportunity for me to work through some stuff. He mentioned at one point (when I'd been talking about seeing the dates that C attended university on his LinkedIn page) that he started his counselling training when he was 49. I think that would mean that he turned 60 this year.

I noted that C is a decade ahead of me, career-wise, and T commented that he started his training remarkably early. I agreed, rolling my eyes jealously. I felt like T joined me briefly in being annoyed at how perfect he is - though maybe I projected that!

T said that he's really pleased that I've found someone who seems to be right for me, and he sounded like he really meant it. This felt bittersweet for me… part of me had been worried that he would think seeing C is a bad idea - I'm not entirely sure why, perhaps because T1 had been so weird and jealous about such things - and so it was a relief that he had been so positive. On the other hand, a (much less rational) part of me had felt rejected by his willingness to 'hand me on’ to someone else.

I said yes - he's perfect… apart from being so totally gorgeous… and then I looked at T and said “not that you're not totally gorgeous!” His embarrassed, amused expression was adorable.

We moved on. T said that I'd mentioned what I'd been preoccupied with the first week, and wondered what happened the second week. I said I'd had a hard time… That I'd forgotten before he went that some difficult anniversaries were coming up for me.

I told him it had been exactly three years since myself and my partner had left a long-term job at a place that we loved very much. I explained that things hadn't ended well and it had been a massive loss for both of us. I said that when you work in a pub it's like a second home, more than a job. He seemed to understand. Then I happened to mention the name of the pub and he said “oh, you've probably served me a drink at some point then, I go there a lot when the festival is on” (the pub is next to a theatre and our city has a big arts festival every May)... This was the third thing to finally come out this session. The first time I went to see T, I had a brief freak-out on his doorstep when I first saw him, because I recognised him. This probably explains why! So I told him about that.

Then I told him about the other anniversary. It had also been three years since myself and my partner attended an airshow at which there was a crash which killed eleven people. I said that soon after we'd left the pub we went to an airshow, and T said “that airshow?”, and I said yes. Then he asked me something like “were you there when it happened?” and I went a bit weird, I had something sort of like a flash of anger and looked at him and said “were we there?! We watched it happen!” ...he started to try to explain himself, or apologise, or something, but my brain had gone radio static. I put my head in my hands and quickly shut him down… I said it was okay, it wasn't him, I just felt weird. And I was silent for a moment.

It didn't take me long to drag myself out of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I didn't want to talk about it any more though.

I said that I had also been struggling because the universe had decided to send two ex-boyfriends into the shop where I work (one the day before and one the Sunday a week before that), which had stirred up all kinds of horrible feelings.

I explained that seeing G, a boyfriend of mine from when I was fourteen, who I pretty much hadn't seen since then, had made me feel regretful of the path I'd taken. He was a nice boy, and still seemed like a nice person, but I'd broken his heart and left him for another boy who treated me terribly and , amongst many other things. I'd been thoughtful about what might have happened if I'd made a different decision back then. Maybe I wouldn't have f***ed my life up so badly.

T said “is this the guy with the tattoos?” (T1 had a tattoo which reminded me of him) and I laughed and said “no - that's D, who I saw yesterday!” I said that I don't blame him for getting confused, I have a lot of horrible ex-boyfriends.

I talked about seeing D, and how when I see him (which happens very rarely) I feel crushed under the weight of all the things I can't say to him. T asked what I can't say, and I explained that part of me feels like he never let me go. I need him to let me go. We talked about my reasons for not saying the things I want to say (it would feel like a betrayal of my partner), and we talked about how I dream about D pretty frequently, and have for about a decade now.

At one point, T said “your dreams are very peopled with people” (a rather weird sentence) and I replied “yeah… aren't everyone's?” ...he said no, that he knew some people who usually had dreams with no other people in them at all. I was surprised by that, and said that I didn't think I'd ever had a dream without other people in it.

T started to talk about how wonderful he thinks dreams are. He said that they are 'utterly unique’ and then caught himself, saying that he was retracting the word 'utterly’, because it's completely redundant in front of the word 'unique’... Unique can't be more or less, it just is. I laughed and said “oh, good, 'cause I was about to scratch you off my list of viable therapists!”, and he said “yes, that's what I was afraid of!”

I noticed there were twelve minutes left, and said so. I went into child mode, pulling my knees up to my chest. I told him that I'd made something… For him.

There was silence.

I asked if he would accept it, if I gave it to him. He said he didn't know, because no client had ever tried to give him something they'd made before.

I was trying to remain outwardly calm, although I don't think I managed it very well. I started to curl up into a ball in the chair.

He talked about boundaries a bit, about an article he'd read in Therapy Today. I was not interested, far too busy shrivelling up inside.

We agreed that I'd give him some time to think about it.

I always get up before him, and leave pretty punctually. But this time I didn't want to get up. I don't know why. I said “I'm waiting for you to get up first”, and he looked a bit baffled. He asked about my hospital appointment the next day. I told him about it. He still didn't get up.

I said “I'm waiting…”

He got up.

I see him again tonight.