I went into today’s session with notes, utterly prepared to avoid an emotional experience like last week. Once we started talking, I barely glanced at them.

R asked about the fallout from last week’s session, and I explained that it was much the same as always. Much of our conversation focused on my beliefs and way of engaging with therapy. I felt deeply uncomfortable as I explained to R that I didn’t write after our most recent session, and then had to explain how I usually approach the time immediately following our conversations.

‘If you hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t know.’ R went on to observe that I have very high standards regarding how I want to use therapy.

‘It sounds like there’s no room for expression of feelings. I want to talk about them.’
‘Absolutely – complete with the Gollum-like expression.’
‘Thanks!’

Our conversation also encompassed the impact of my experiences, specifically in relation to teen me. R understood what I was getting at in terms of the nature/nurture debate, and seemed to confirm that the way in which I deal with things was impacted by how I saw others deal with their emotions.
We ended up speaking about the book she recommended in her email. She said she hadn’t realised that Edith Eger had written two books either.

‘When I was reading, there was one chapter in particular that made me think of you.’ She said if she hadn’t been listening to the audiobook, she probably would have photographed relevant passages.

‘I know you’ll go to ‘Well, she’s a Holocaust survivor, so I can’t do that, but she makes it OK. I finished it in four days.’
‘I love it when a book grabs you like that. I want to experience that again. Reading for pleasure is so different.’

‘It takes you away.’ R then offered to do some breathing, focusing on breathing out anger and sadness.

The thing she said that sticks with me this week is: ‘Trauma may shape who you are, but it doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to manage.’