The whole thing.

2020.

I trusted the therapist. I trusted that he'd follow me into my account of my experiences and be a calm, compassionate witness as I began the work of building a bridge for me to cross from the terror and despair of the previous five years, to the safety of the present. The need in me for such a witness was raw, a wound. I had the task of transforming my memories or I'd stay trapped in the pain of my son's psychosis and attempted suicide, and my husband's choice to betray our marriage. I needed to be able to cope with the pain and devastation. And I thought that I could trust the therapist to track my emotions and to see...

For this is what I needed so much.

My feelings for him began when I received an email from my course leader saying that as the therapist was not accredited he wasn't experienced enough to see students. This made me feel hot and cold, and panic. I couldn't bear the thought of losing another person. Certainly I was shocked by the depth of my reaction, my emotions - but I'd been through such a lot of loss, I rationalised my feelings for him. And when I received an unexpected email from him, around the same time, about types of insurance. I thought, 'oh, he is thinking of me when I'm not in therapy'! An email from a therapist not about appointment times, or to send information that had been requested by the client felt transgressive.

In retrospect those two emails acted as a catalyst. I was in need, and perhaps my desire for closeness and safety led to my body automatically shifting into offering what is most precious in a response to the threat of having to find another therapist, and fuelled by the feeling of transgression, and of being liked. 

2021

At the start of 2021 I didn't take my feelings too seriously because it was exciting and it felt good for me. But I felt that he must be aware of my feelings about him?  I recorded myself speaking to him on zoom, and I was shocked at how I hung on his every word -  and how it looked to me as if my feelings were embarrassingly clear. 

I didn't understand why didn't he ask me? 

By April he had made a soto voce comment, about it being 'a shame' that I was a client. And he called me a 'minx' whilst I was remembering a really uncomfortable and sad experience. The juxtaposition was so shocking I could no longer ignore whatever was going on. It hit me like lightning, and I couldn't let go. I  wanted to understand. Yet I still wasn't strong enough to voice my feelings, whilst being aware that the ambiguity of this situation really made things worse.

I'd spent a year previous to starting therapy being lied to by my husband, the need to believe the lies - because it stopped him being angry with me - meant that I had to become unable to trust myself. I had had to switch my feelings off to live a lie. I felt immense relief when I discovered that my feelings had been so accurate (about my husband). Trust in myself was restored. And, as with my husband, I could not know what was going on with the therapist, without honest , open dialogue. So I was stuck...

In May, as we talked about SCoPEd, the conversation seemed to veer into the subject of ethical boundaries. I had been talking about Brian Thorne's view, that SCoPEd might standardize practice and lead to a more text book version of therapy. But that isn't what the therapist heard. I couldn't work out what he'd thought I'd said? But I felt criticized, attacked actually, by his tone of voice, by the way the subject was turned 180 degrees away from the spiritual dimension of therapy, towards what? 

Months later he referred to this as me 'having some problems with the ethical framework'. Whilst I felt that I had become a target for his personal issues and that he had used me to vent moral indignation, and outrage.

I found this experience so disorientating that I began recording the sessions. I wanted to know what I was imagining, versus what was actually said. This process is how I protect myself from epistemic injustice (the denial of critical information). I also requested that we change our contract to that of mentor/mentee. This was because our therapeutic relationship had been destroyed by that session. It felt as though the therapist had brought out his personal baggage and dumped his feelings on to me, I was his opportunity to feel 'righteous indignation 

2022

I listened to the recordings of our sessions and as I transcribed them I noticed themes; about what he was actually saying to me. I felt that he was always on the verge of telling me to go, "This isn't working for you and it certainly isn't working for me" regardless of how true that was, it felt so awful to hear those words, I came to therapy because of grief. I needed security. 

Here there was no working out what might of happened, no navigation, no dialogue about what he might be saying that might lead me to react in ways that he found unacceptable - I got upset in one session, I was unable to speak and my eyes filled with tears - he described this as me being 'angry' I felt chastised and told off. There is so much more...

2023

Reflecting, trying to make sense...

2024

I finally recognised betrayal. I requested an apology and resolution. I recognised that there had been a Factor X, A something that was underneath his responses. I also acknowledged how dangerous this therapy had been for me, how the therapist's refusal to be as open and transparent with me as I was with him, was too close to how my husband had been. I wrote to say that I had serious concerns and that I may request my notes.

I also said that I would make the sessions 'freeware' and he felt threatened - which is odd - because what could he have possibly said that he wouldn't want others to hear?

2025.

At the start of the year the pain of what happened would drag me into despair and I felt trapped, silenced and unable ever to be free of this. I understood that I'd been subjected to epistemic injustice. I could see parallels in how he had reacted to my emotions, with the process of spiritual abuse. I looked into how reality is constructed; ARGs, and in particular catfishing and gaslighting, processes of denial and victim blaming. I understood how his refusal to talk about his feelings kept me 'blind' and that his denial works; it blocks resolution. It freezes repair. It keeps the anger going. 

Why anyone would want to keep anger going rather than deal with it, is possibly another sign of Factor X? 

I recognised that Factor X operated as a 'Hot potato' (see Fanita English). A compelling explanation is important to the perpetrator, so that you - the victim - are continually puzzled by why they keep saying the same explanation again and again.

I wrote a victim statement. I sent the statement to him whilst standing in the centre of the Rollrights (ceremony is amazing!) it felt like I was lobbing the hot potato right back....