I only ever had one counsellor that i liked.
I had one once that looked uncannily like my mum.
That was baaad.
We just sat there in silence for the whole hour. I couldn't speak to her. there was no way anything was going to come out of my mouth. I just sat and squirmed inside, ripping myself apart, for not only had it come to this, but when it did, i could say nothing.
She didn't say anything either.
It was counselling deadlock. I believe this kind of counselling has a name... but who gives a fuck what it's called.
But there was another woman who i really liked. She lived in a beautiful converted farmhouse and she saw people in a specially adapted part of the farm buildings. It was a lovely setting, there were kids things all over the courtyard at the entrance. She was a bit older than me but not too much. She asked me why i was crying on our final session.
She said, " Is it because you think we've done some good work here?"
I wouldn't have put it exactly like that, but i nodded.
The important bit was though, that she said to me, " Inside of everything you have told me, can you see, that actually, it's quite rich?"
And i could, i can. I know exactly what she meant, and although sometimes that is no comfort at all, in other times, that is exactly what i know, above anything else, that actually, this is quite rich.