The turn of the year is about assessing past achievements and future challenges. At the end of November I said goodbye to my therapist. Do I feel a sense of loss? Not really. What I feel is a sense of confusion and slight irritation. I was never completely comfortable with our relationship. It was different from any other that I have and my organising mind was always trying to fit it into a box that I could recognise and understand the rules for. Certainly it was no friendship, far too cold and unequal for that. It was too intimate and long-term for the box marked ‘doctor’, too stand-offish for the one marked ‘teacher’, and definitely too silent and non-prescriptive for the one marked ‘guru’.

There was no explanation in the beginning for how the relationship would be, so, not surprisingly, our ending was equally baffling. As usual, the clock ticked its way to 50 minutes and off I went. Nothing marked my leaving, no special session, no summing up, no final hug. In a society that has taken to kissing almost everyone you meet, this seemed positively uptight.

Full of festive cheer, I sent her a Christmas card, thanking her for her time and support over the past year. Alright, I know lots of people think the sending of these cards is ridiculous. Perhaps she’s one of them, as I have heard nothing from her. But I suspect it’s another of the unwritten rules I am not party to: therapists don’t send Christmas cards – it’s far too personal.

I have a new therapist (we exchanged polite Christmas texts). There wasn’t much of a gap between ending the sessions with therapist A and starting with therapist B. Should there be a respectable gap before starting with somebody new? Am I becoming a therapist junkie? Perhaps it is better to have some time on my own and assimilate what has happened in the relationship that has come to an end. Maybe I would feel more of a loss if I wasn’t concentrating now on the relationship with my new therapist. I’ve heard it said the best way to get over one boyfriend is to get into bed with another.

Although I ponder these thoughts, I think my reasoning is much more shallow and pragmatic. It’s not a need for propping up or a matter of emotional attachment. I feel impatient and just want to get on with things. I want a different take on my issues, a new style, something more tangible and practical – cognitive analytic therapy promises that.

I have chosen a man this time. We have met before; I had a few sessions with him when I asked him to mediate between my ex-partner and myself. He came over as bright and clear-thinking, grasping the issues quickly, and so I have put aside my reluctance to risk any potential complications posed by a sexual dynamic. I have to acknowledge that, despite my best endeavours, I can relate to men and women differently. I am programmed to try and please men, and find common ground and collude with women.

Being mindful of this, so far, I don’t notice any difference in the way I am relating to my therapist. I find admitting to my dark side just as excruciating, whatever their sex.

The most remarkable change for me is how different the material is that we are dealing with. I am the same person with the same life story. However, in a few hours it is only possible to take out a narrow cross-section of my experience. I may present with the same problem, but inadvertently give more emphasis to one aspect of it.

The therapist might probe more deeply into one relationship and take me down that alleyway, completely ignoring a route the previous therapist had spent much time on.

A therapist becomes almost like an editor, asking for more clarification and detail here, to blue-pencil the part about your sister, to focus the story on those first two years and, in the end, giving you a rewritten script. Therapists, like editors, are all different and will turn out very individual results. It seems impossible to me to try to work out which experience is more thorough or better than the other. I guess you have to accept that you take different things from different relationships. You will think some things work and others don’t.

As the New Year gets underway, I know that my challenge is about acceptance. If I am to get the maximum out of therapy I have to stop kicking against it. I am coming to understand that therapy and its individual practitioners cannot be easily pigeonholed or evaluated. The relationships are just as they are, different and individual. If I don’t start to accept, I know that I will start to feel a sense of loss, one of lost opportunity.

Some details have been changed to protect identities.