There are many things my therapist likes about me, but I think probably the thing she likes best is how friendly I am towards her. A few weeks ago I asked her to go on holiday with me. (Well, I don’t have a huge amount of disposable income at the moment so I asked her to go on holiday with me and pay). She was not keen. So then I asked if during our session we could take a quick trip to Trailfinders. I think she saw through my cunning guise, because we did not go to Trailfinders.
I can’t really imagine my therapist has that much to do when she’s not seeing me, so I like to keep her occupied. I often send her little texts throughout the day to remind her of me. Today, for instance, I shared my joy at being taken out to breakfast. She did not reply. I often use our sessions together as a safe place for her to explore her feelings. She is not overly receptive to this. So I have been forced to adopt a new tactic. ‘I think I’ve got worse at sex,’ I begin. Her face shows nothing except amusement. I cannot tell if this is the smug amusement of someone who is fantastic in bed, or the resigned amusement of someone who has to wade through 50 minutes of non sequiturs every time we meet, trying to work out what is important. I continue. ‘So you know how sometimes you’re a bit too lazy to go on top?’ I ask her piercingly. Once again, nothing. The woman’s impenetrable.
‘Are you amazing in bed?’ I ask, exasperated. My therapist laughs. I am cross. ‘Look,’ I explain. ‘I don’t want to talk about this with you if you’re one of those people who are amazing at the sex. It’s just going to be awkward. I’ll be busy telling you about how I think I’ve got worse, at least in some respects, and you’ll be sitting there thinking about how grateful you are to be amazing at sex, and wondering why I am so terrible.’ My therapist tries to deflect. She is a master of deflection. ‘I’m not sure there are rigid measures of judgments for sex,’ she begins. ‘I do not care for your judgments!’ I shout, appalled. My therapist is somewhat baffled. I quickly re-play what she said. I apologise. I realise that my new tactic has been avoided as easily as my old tactics. My therapist is the master of deflection. It’s something we really need to work on. Well, that and the sex.
unfashionablylost 