The whole thing.

The whole thing is deceptively simple. There are three overriding issues.

The first is, I trusted the therapist. I trusted that he'd follow me into my painful memories and be a calm, compassionate 'anchor' or 'bridge' between the past and present as I began the work of linking the confidence of the present (a place where I am safe) with the terror and despair of the past. So, that need in me, a need for a 'trusted companion ' was raw, a wound. I had to transform the memories or stay trapped in the hell of my son's psychosis and my husband's choice to betray our marriage.

How the therapist corrupted this privileged position is recorded in this blog.

Second issue, the therapist brought his personal baggage into our sessions and aimed those feelings at me, inadvertently or unconsciously or purposefully using me as an opportunity to feel 'righteous indignation '.

Third issue, the ending. 

My state of mind as I left the last session...

This is a black box. All the evidence is within these pages - not all my accounts are accessible yet-  but it is all here. So I will have described this mind state accurately for the record.

So how did he corrupt his privileged position? A Soto voce comment, and especially the 'minx' incident. These kept me hooked in. 

The question about any erotic transfer, his reciprocal feelings for me - or was it my reciprocal feelings for him was a subject that I  needed to understand. The hidden, transgressive nature of those incidents and how he framed my honesty as transgressive placed the subject beyond discussion.

I didn't automatically judge anything that happened. I was simply bewildered. I didn't label 'transgression' as good or bad. I needed to understand. And understanding was denied.

It felt like grooming. The metaphor is drug abuse. The hidden nature made it so.

The damaging, equally inexplicit feelings didn't come automatically from Eros, they came from his disparaging, dismissive lectures. He abused his privilege when he used our sessions to express his anger and disgust. I could not fathom it, I blamed myself. I couldn't understand where the energy came from. If he had been a client I would have explored and both of us would understand. Also, I wouldn't have accepted that his rage (?) was about me. 

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). 

There was a hint of what had happened to him in his own therapy as an explanation. And it felt like it was a request for my understanding of him. But the manner of this disclosure was designed to transfer emotions, rather than to create understanding. The message I received (top level) is that someone else is responsible for his misaligned reaction to me. The deeper level was the 'hot potato ', a process that enables scapegoating.

The inexplicable nature of the implied accusations makes it incredibly difficult for the recipient to hand back the 'hot potato '.

And finally the ending. I've said enough about my state of mind at the time. The therapist managed the ending  in such a way that broke the ethical guidelines of at least one ethical framework.

A defence based on what apparently happened isn't going to reveal the actuality. The inclusion in a session of 'set pieces ' that are characteristics of certain sessions - for example, 'best hopes ' in the first session of sfbt, does not make the conversation sfbt,  therapy, or therapeutic. What makes it therapy is emotional resonance. A person is a therapist because they specialise in noticing and caring how their communication is received. Responses on every subject require great respect and care. The emotional response  of the other determines the direction of the following dialogue.

Overall I look back at these sessions as hormetic stress... because I took refuge (Buddhism), because I had over 30 years of meditation practice, and because I think in a solution focused way. If I hadn't had those tools, chances are I'd be dead.

The seriousness of my complaint demands I continue with this.