Because the therapist the school recommended,believed that the whole problem was one which could not be solved in one visit,he felt it would be necessary to set up another appointment,so we could explore the whole issue together,a bit longer. I didn't see how what he wanted was helping so,I did what I could to try and get out of doing what he wanted. Even though that was so,I had little choice in the matter,which was demonstrated when he asked if I would prefer that he call the school,and tell them I didn't wanna co-operate.

When the next appointment rolled around,rather than try to flog a dead horse,which the therapist felt he was doing,by focusing on my relationship with people my own age,he turned the discussion to a new topic,how I had got along with my real parents,as opposed to how I interacted with my aunt. It didn't take long to explain how the methods that my aunt used were similar to those of my parents,save for the one detail which he already knew about,the lack of emotions she could share with me on her part. Deep down,I knew that she was doing what she could,to prepare me for the time when I would no longer be under her roof,but I failed to see how talking about how my life had changed would help me control the grief I felt.