they like it when you're trying to be a therapist for you to get your own therapy.  i am the studious type and so i have taken this absurdly expensive and occasionally traumatic journey into self discovery.  i find it quite strange to think about writing about in this format. i've set this up to be anonymous, but i know if you knew me you'd be able to figure out that this is me, and therapy, as you would imagine, is rather personal.  having said that, i have searched for writing about other peoples' therapy and it is noticeably absent.  so i'll talk a bit about it and see how it goes.

i have seen my therapist for about twenty sessions.  she has a lovely office with a cream couch and pictures of birds and books by jung and freud.  she is always neatly dressed in nice, neutral clothes.  she starts every session the exact same way.  she comes out of the office and says my name like she is surprised and delighted to see me.  she says "come in!", waits for me to walk through the door, then shuts it behind me - i used to shut the door but i quickly learned that this is not how things are done.  she holds out her hand and says "take a seat."  we both sit down, then she smiles her therapist smile, exhales and says "so... what's on your mind?"

this is incredibly anxiety provoking.  has anyone ever asked you that?  what IS on your mind? it's a glorious, confusing question.  she's not asking "what do you want to talk about?" or "what is important to talk about?" or "what do you think is appropriate or useful or clever to talk about?"  all of these questions are very easy to answer, because we spend all day talking about what we want to or what we think we should or what will sound clever.  but i find it so hard to speak to what's on my mind - so many times i have started off talking about how hard it is to talk.

she's quite clever, my therapist.  it feels like she is sitting there in her chair across from me and really trying to know me, which is an experience that is hard to describe.  she talks quite a bit, which i think is unusual for a psychoanalytic therapist, but i like it.  i have teachers (who are also therapists) who do this thing where they just stare expectantly at you (and no doubt at their patients) the whole time, trying to provoke you to keep talking, and she does a bit of that, but it's not too much.  she gives me time to think.

i think that's all for now.