My therapist was always aware of how I was at the end of each therapy session - happy, sad, unsafe, suicidal, ok. She tried to match endings to what I was going home to.
If she knew my friend was in the car with me for the drive home (40 minutes) and that night then she would have a 'deeper' session, a more heavy session with me. If I was driving home alone and wasn't seeing anyone till the next day (I saw her in the afternoons) she would end on a lighter note.
She once said that she was acutely aware of how I was when I left the room each week and my home circumstances after each session. So indepth discussions about sexual abuse would go as far as my afterward situation dictated.
I wish I still had her. I miss her. And I'm angry that our therapy was not ended by us but by unforseeable and unchangeable circumstances and managerial bastards.
My two pennies worth anyhow.
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