Then there was the time when...and the time when...it all spills out of me. It actually feels good, given I’ve never told anyone the entire fucked-up saga before. The counsellor’s face grows more and more stern. At the end of the session, he says, ‘OK, so I’m going to tick the box on this sheet that says ‘Domestic violence’. He shows me the box, and him ticking it. I’m gobsmacked. ‘But, he never hit me!’ He tells me that domestic violence is often purely psychological. And that I have definitely been subject to it. Huh. I had no idea.
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