Dear T,

I am enjoying writing my therapy diary. Well, enjoy might not be the right word. Glad? Glad I'm writing it. I think it is good for me. To help me share those extra bits with you and to help me see the journey I am on. I wish I had started years ago, but hey, better late than never!

I wonder whether there's an element of hiding happening today? It sure felt like it. As I came in I only perched on the edge of the chair, facing away from you, and even when I had sat back after you closed your eyes, the first words I wrote were "I don't seem to want to share today".

I wonder if it has anything to do with what you said last week. About showing my Teenage One that kindness and compassion. I wonder whether you took a tentative step into my world by saying that and I wonder whether I am cautiously putting the barriers back up again. Each of us testing the waters, so to speak.

You said something interesting today. Well, my response to it was interesting, to me. You said that the dynamic in the room is different each week, because of me and because of my work schedule, but also because you are in the room and because you are different each week.

That last bit completely confused me. Thing is, you don't seem to exist to me a lot of the time. I know that might not make any sense, but it's how it feels to me. I don't register you as being the same, or different, because I barely register you at all, I don't think.

Maybe that's worth exploring.