I should have considered that after a day of training on recognising the signs of sexual abuse, I might not be in the right frame of mind for counselling.
It always starts with him handing me a piece of paper, on which I am supposed to position a little cross on a line that sums up how I've been feeling about different things. I quite like that, it's quite mathematical. But today I just couldn't write anything. He always goes away and gives me time to think. I looked at the paper. I looked out of the window and wondered why a particular rooftop was such a strange shape. I looked at the pen and decided I'd like one similar. I looked some more at the paper and some more at the pen, then twiddled the pen a bit. Then he came back and noted that I'd not written anything. I asked him if I had to, he said no. Then we sat in silence for a bit. Then he asked me what was wrong and big fat tears trickled down my face.
Throughout the hour I stared out of the window while I talked. He is so nice and he asked me all the right questions about my Mum and how things ae going. I told him I was fed up of waking up with sad thoughts about her. We discussed whether those feelings coud be deemed suicidal and he explained that he has a duty of care to try and find out.
At the end he went to find his diary. While he was gone I had a look at his notebook. He'd written:
Little eye contact
I didn't know they had to make these kind of observations and now I'm reall worried what else he might have written.
I might continue this later ...