I consider myself to be very, very lucky with my psych, who is as flexible, accommodating and spontaneous with me as his enormously busy schedule and competing demands allow. I am, or used to be, fiercely, viciously strict with myself about not contacting him out of session, not requesting extra sessions, and not indulging in any even tiny or insignificant indicator of dependence on him. Dependence terrifies me irrationally, and even though our relationship is now very strong, calling on him between sessions or displaying dependent/reliant behaviour in any form still distresses me enormously.
That said, I have called on him a number of times in crisis. At its worst, I have phoned him directly, or texted him asking him to call me asap. He has always obliged - at least he knows I don't do this lightly, and if i say it's urgent, he knows it is. Somehow, there are moments I can't take back control on my own, yet somehow, he can always help me do this. That's a terrifying truth, but it's a truth nonetheless.
But mostly it's e-mail contact that bridges the times between sessions for me, and I have to say I utilise this one-way, pseudo communication method very frequently. This has evolved to be a very productive strategy for us. Sometimes he sets me written homework tasks which I e-mail him between sessions. I often write long, journal-type e-mails, particularly when things are really tough, and I know he reads them and speaks to me about their content when we next meet. It helps me to feel connected to someone safe and trusted when i need to, which is often in the dead of night when it isn't appropriate to call anyone except in the case of absolute crisis, and it helps me to share lots of important things with him that we mightn't otherwise have time to discuss in sessions. Often I communicate more eloquently in writing than in words, and he accepts this, yet still encourages me to work on my verbal skills as well, which is a long slow process.
As I said, I'm very lucky. Sometimes - often in fact - I am deeply afraid of the dependence on him that I can't deny. For someone who trusts nobody, and who even now can spiral into irrational terror of his rejection at the drop of a hat, it's been a fragile and utterly foreign experience for me to recognize, let alone acknowledge, a sense of safe human connection. I try to take comfort from knowing that he is very aware of this,he is ultra professional in spite of his enormous capacity for empathy and "humanness" with me, and I trust that he would take action if he felt the dependence was unhealthy or counterproductive.
Maddog