Therapy odyssey > thodyssey?

So I’m four weeks in an kinda fascinated by the process, but possibly the sort of fascination you’d also have watching a hooded cobra hypnotise its prey.

I’ve written various notes and scribbles about the sessions as they’ve been and gone, but that’s old news now. Here are the topline data:

Wk 1: Bad. Left me feeling upset and vulnerable.

Wk 2: Good. Gave me some useful ideas about how J and I relate to each other when we fight.

Wk 3. Bad then good. Edgy and awkward, but I realised something amazing just after I left.

Wk 4. Good-ish…

But this week’s therapy degenerated into talking about how therapy makes me awkward and uncomfortable. (Aside – I tore my left adductor some years ago and went to see an osteopath.
Me: It hurts when I do this. Him: I suggest you stop doing that then; best £35 I’ve ever spent.*)

Anyway, back to the therapy. I said that I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep coming, she said we could talk more about that feeling next week. Hmmm… I wonder how many dodgy therapists use their understanding of the human condition to keep unassertive people on their books for years?

I’ve definitely got some good stuff from the process, but each hour I spend there is like having teeth pulled without anaesthetic. Difficult to tell right now what the cost/benefit ratio is, although I suspect the credit crunch might decide for me quite soon.

*It wasn’t actually the best £35 I’ve spent until he’d stripped me to my underwear and done painful things to me.


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