New T noticed me holding my stuffed animal during our session, even though he was kind of hiding behind my purse. She asked me what his name was. It felt good to be seen, because little did she know at the time, he is very special to me. Old T used to hug him so he’d hold the connection for me between our sessions. I told T how I cut off his leg when I was mad at her once and then stitched it back on. She started going on about how poetic that was and I started cracking up. Poetic?!?! lol, I would most certainly not call my angry spurts of rage and idealization for T poetic.