Jaksokuvaus
When I was at the first appointment with my former therapist, she started with the dreaded, "so, what brings you in here?" question. My answer was a discombobulated jumble of vague statements, one thought half-finished before leading to the next. I could barely keep eye contact because of the shame, so I was talking mostly to my knees. Finally I broke for a moment to try to gather my thoughts, and my therapist hit me with this: "Do you sit down in the shower?" She may as well have blown an airhorn. I don't remember how long I stared at her like she some demon before answering in the affirmative. I remember she looked a *little* satisfied - like she was glad she'd gotten that one right - before her expression disappeared. It wasn't something that pinged my radar because I'd loved long, hot showers my whole life. But sitting during the shower was a (relatively) recent development at the time, and I only started because I wanted to stay in the shower with the hot, noisy water pounding on my head until it got cold, and standing was too much effort. Still, her educated guess both shook me and made me feel seen, in a way my previous therapist never accomplished.