I asked for less conversation.

By Friday afternoon I had explained the same work problem to four different people. I arrived at my appointment with very little conversation left and a strong instinct to spend what remained on being polite.

I liked the therapist. This made asking for quiet feel stranger than it needed to. I was worried it would sound as though I disliked talking to them specifically.

Before we began, I said I was talked out and would prefer a quiet appointment, apart from the questions needed for treatment. The therapist said that was helpful to know.

Quiet still included communication.

We discussed the plan, my comfort and anything that had changed since the previous visit. I asked the questions I needed to ask. Then we agreed that I did not need to keep a conversation running.

There were still check-ins. I answered them. When I wanted an adjustment, I said so. The quiet was not an agreement to stop communicating about what mattered.

For a while I kept composing remarks about the weather. This was mostly muscle memory from being a person in a room with another person.

I let the remarks go.

I did not explain my entire week. The therapist did not need the history of the meeting to understand that I wanted less small talk.

Afterwards I thanked them and said the arrangement had suited me. It felt useful to make that clear, rather than assume silence had communicated everything on its own.

At home, my partner asked whether I wanted to talk about work. I said I would rather hear about their day. They told me about a dog on the bus carrying its own toy.

I had enough attention for that story. I even asked which toy. It was a rubber chicken, which made the bus journey sound considerably more interesting than my meetings.