Some Insights + Feelings From 22nd/23rd Holotropic Breathwork Workshops
19th Jan, ’97:
While walking through the city centre on my way home from the workshop I was deeply struck by the terrible sadness which emanated from the face of each passerby. I could clearly see that something very important was missing from their lives, and that over the week-end I had the privilege of getting in touch with that very special part of me.
20th Jan, ’97:
During a trip to the local supermarket, I again sensed that dreadful sadness in the hearts of all the shoppers, even those with children, but not in the children themselves.
30th Jan, ’97:
At around 1.30pm, while in the bathroom, began to feel really frightened and by the time I’d gone out into the hallway, I was in a state of absolute terror. It suddenly felt like my head was just about ready to be born and I was frantically trying to get out. I was so scared that I couldn’t even put on the music which might have eased things somewhat for me. I couldn’t do anything but wait ‘till the feelings subsided.
24th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 9/2/1997
There were only ten participants, including myself.
The meditation and introductions began at 9.25pm, followed by the very short break during which we choose our partners. Today, Ciara and I chose to work with each other, with she being first to breathe.
The first session got going around 9.45am. Ciara didn’t really need much assistance from me and completed her session at 1.25pm. She was ready to leave the room at 1.40pm.
Following lunch, we returned to the room at 2.00pm for the afternoon session. For some reason, I wasn’t as nervous as usual, and immediately relaxed as soon as I lay on the mattress. Feeling good after the exercises, I then waited to see where my breath and the music would take me:-
“After about ten minutes of breathing, I begin to move my head slowly from side to side, clawing at my neck and hair. Shortly afterwards I start to move around, making sporadic angry sounds, but continuing with the breathing in between. Also, there are times when I feel slightly nauseous, but it quickly passes.
Somewhere around three quarters of an hour into the session, it feels like I’m trying to be born, then all Hell breaks loose. Wild anger erupts and I completely explode, screaming and shouting “fuck” at everyone and everything.
Someone is pressing my head and neck as I lie on my belly trying to push my head through a cushion, while at the same time kicking and stamping my feet wildly. This goes on for probably well over an hour.
Again, I have moments when I feel like I’m going to puke, but also I’m getting dreadful attacks of heartburn and my stomach is full of wind. I desperately need to fart but when I try I can’t, the discomfort sending me even deeper into my rage. Still screaming and thumping my feet into the mattress, I suddenly sit up, totally out of control, and eventually realise that Fiona is sitting beside me.
Almost immediately, I develop an agonising pain in my upper gut and frantically search for Fiona’s hand so as I can press it into the pain. I feel if I don’t soon get pressure on this thing, I’m going to die. She asks me to lie down on my back, then begins to locate the painful area under my left rib, but because I need so much pressure on it, I grab her hand and force it deep into my gut, as far as it will go. While doing this, I’m screaming “fuck off” and “shut up” although I’m not exactly sure who this verbal attack is directed at. At times it feels like it’s being triggered by the terrible sounds of suffering all around me.
Again, this stage of my session lasts for quite a long time and a while after my anger has subsided, someone offers me water which I gratefully accept.
Now I’m consumed by an overwhelming sadness for no apparent reason and I begin my familiar gut-wrenching cries which rip through my body, leaving me shattered and sick with despair. Fiona is with me throughout all of this and remains with me for quite some time, even after I’ve settled down. After she leaves Ciara covers me up with the blanket and still feeling very sad, I curl up underneath it and continue to cry quietly to myself before drifting off into a light sleep.
When I wake up, I’m aware of Tony sitting beside me. He tells me that I’ve done really well and how good it was to see me in my anger.
Nevertheless, while he’s saying all this, I’m feeling waves of intense rage bubbling up inside me which I want to let explode out all over the room, particularly at the two women yelling their guts out beside me. However, I manage to restrain myself, feeling that I’ve discharged enough shit for one day.
Around ten minutes later I’m ready to leave. It is 5.30pm”.
I went straight into the small room to draw my Mandala and was surprised at the speed with which the images came to me. I coloured the whole inside of the circle red to depict the incredible anger I felt during my session. I also allowed my anger to move outside the circle.
The strangest thing was that I drew a tiny blue baby with its umbilical cord attached to this fury, then realised the feelings were connected to my frustrating attempts to be born. Also I understood that some of my rage, during the session, was directed at Fiona as she was encouraging me to let out the sounds.
When I’d finished my Mandala and wrote up some of my experience, I went down to the kitchen, where a lot of people were already eating and generally having a good old chat. I didn’t really contribute to any of the conversations.
After tea we returned to the session room at around 6.00pm for the final meditation and group discussion. I felt good in myself and supportive to others. Later, I asked Fiona who’d been with me in the early part of my session, and she told me, Tony, then herself.
Following the tidying up, I hugged some of the people I felt closest to, including my partner, Ciara. I also hugged and thanked Fiona and Tony for their help in getting me through today, then left at 7.25pm. Arrived home 7.35pm.
As I was tired and not very hungry or talkative, I remained in the kitchen for some time just relaxing and listening to some music. During those moments of quiet reflection, I had a wonderful sense of having worked through a huge amount of feelings today, which I know is another very positive step down the road towards complete healing. After a little chat with my husband and the boys and a nice hot cup of camomile tea, I went to bed at 10.00pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 24th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop
At 9.00am, desperately needed a drink. Sank into very deep depression, feeling I wanted to come out of all my therapies. Around 10.10am rang my therapist, Alan, and told him what was going on for me. Some insights came as I was talking to him, like how my craving for anything which blocks out all my feelings, still remains very much with me. He was very supportive and asked me to call him again at around 2.00pm, which I did. By then I was even more distressed, panicking that I wasn’t going to make it through the day without hurting myself one way or another.
Sometime in the evening, became aware that I hadn’t given in to the tremendous urge to have “just one drink” and felt really proud of myself. Having realised that my breathwork sessions must after all be doing something for me, I decided to tell my husband of my great achievement.
Had a very disturbing dream that I was living with my adoptive parents in my present house. In one of the back bedrooms, where the window is without net curtains, I was naked and drying my vagina with loo paper, and when I looked up a woman was staring over at me from her own bedroom window. I was mortified and completely hysterical.
From that dream I went into another. I was in our front bedroom when my father told me that my mother was sick and needed to rest.
She was lying on a mattress on the floor and was wearing the same white heavy cardigan she wore for years before she died. I hated them being with me. All I could feel was a dreadful sense of fear, plus, I was straight back into that side of my personality which longed to know the real me.
Most of all I hated my mother being sick, not because I loved her, which I don’t think I ever really did, but because I knew I would have to relive the terror I experienced one afternoon, when, as a child, I saw and heard her vomiting into a basin on the living room floor. At the time I became hysterical, not knowing what was happening to my mother.
21st Feb, ’97:
I have blocked everything out from yesterday, which has left me feeling numb, but sounding fine.
22nd Feb, ’97:
Took a shower for the first time in seven days. Feeling confident in myself. Question if my euphoria, Wednesday (12/2), was really the onset of my depression this week. I’m finally beginning to understand the pattern of my mood swings.
At 10.00pm suddenly became extremely tired and agitated. Went straight to bed, behaving exactly like a nackered toddler. Almost immediately on getting into bed, was seized by an incredible anger, which had me violently tossing and turning and making really angry sounds. Each time I woke up during the night, repeated this performance.
24th Feb, ’97:
Could it be possible that as my sessions have dealt with really shit stuff recently, that I’m trying to deny the reality of the experiences by craving substances (tranquillisers and booze)?
1st Mar, ’97:
I’ve come out of the depression and I’m feeling great. Did a lot of housework. Around 11.00pm, while sitting on the loo, suddenly wondered, if the lower stomach pain experienced by some women, including myself, both during and following a breathwork session, is caused by a sudden release of the hormone, Oxytocin, into the bloodstream as a result of hyperventilation?
5th Mar, ’97:
In the early hours of this morning, woke up shouting and twisting my body all over the bed. Intense anger.
Is there a remote connection between a heart attack and a panic attack, given that, with the exception of the associated heart pain, the symptoms are very similar?. Could the underlying cause of a heart attack be repressed fear? (concept occurred while taking shower).
As I entered a supermarket, blind panic set in. Everything blurred, felt I was going to pass out, terrified of everything.
6th Mar, ’97:
Woke up 6.00am sobbing my heart out. Dreamed that I’d been publicly humiliated and rejected by people I’d previously been very friendly with. Some of these people even did breathwork sessions with me. This happened in a church, where I was supposed to read something during a Mass, but I couldn’t understand when I was meant to read it. I felt so stupid and guilty about letting everyone down. I continued crying for about ten minutes after I woke up.
7th Mar, ’97:
Shortly before I woke up this morning, dreamed I had a very chesty cough. Also, I was in hospital waiting to be taken down for an operation. I was looking forward to being knocked out.
25th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 16/3/1997
At around 9.20am we began the meditation and introductions, after which Luke chose me as his partner. Following our decision that I would sit in the morning, the first session got going at 10.00am.
Luke needed very little help from me and was ready to leave the room at 12.35pm. For a while I had lunch on my own which I found very relaxing. Later, I was joined by Luke and we had a long chat, then everyone else arrived and things livened up. We returned to the room where the afternoon session began at 2.10pm. I’d been very anxious for the past few days, but as soon as I started the relaxation exercises, I knew everything would be fine. It was time to begin my journey:-
“Around ten or fifteen minutes into the breathing I begin to yawn, moving my hands up onto my chest. A few moments later my body starts to shake and jerk violently, then I become aware of a strong pressure on my lower tummy. Following on from that, I now begin my familiar baby movements, clawing at my face and head and making little sucking noises.
After about thirty minutes or so the breathing begins to present some problems and within minutes Tony is beside me, providing encouragement by breathing along with me.
Almost immediately I go into my anger telling, I think, Tony to “fuck off” and “get away from me”. This continues for quite some time with me struggling to get free and at times, demanding to leave the room. A short while later Tony has to leave me but assures me he will return.
The following few moments are very hazy, then at some point I go over onto my hands and knees, vigorously resisting a kind gesture of help from Luke. The next thing I’m aware of is sitting upright, rocking violently to and fro. I’ve no idea how long this goes on for, but I know I suddenly open my eyes and I’m very frightened.
Again, the next stage is blank, but sometime later it feels like I’m out in the middle of the floor, drugged to the eyeballs, with the life slowly draining out of me. The whole space around me is filled with a brilliant white light. After I tell Tony that I don’t exist, he tells me to stay with that feeling. (Although I’ve no memory of what happens next, I’m sure I didn’t pass out).
Now I return to the breathing with renewed energy and find myself straight back in the anger. My screams are coming from somewhere very deep inside as images of my father standing over me, leather strap in hand, send me into uncontrollable rage. I continue with this guttural yelling until I’m forced to spit out the yukky sludge which continuously fills my mouth from screaming.
After some time I begin to feel a terrible discomfort in my chest which causes me to shout out in pain. While Tony applies pressure to it I start to scream, then I launch into the familiar rapid babbling sound which always happens when I become deeply distressed. Again I return to the anger and this time my sound is that of an enraged animal whose snarling and deep growling becomes a very threatening noise. Tony really encourages me to keep that sound going.
Suddenly, while apparently drowning in a swimming pool, unable to breathe and struggling to surface, I mumble “water, water” to Tony, hoping he will understand what’s happening.
He reassures me over and over that I’m totally safe now and won’t stop breathing and presses his hand on my throat to encourage full release of this memory. I cough and choke in total panic, feeling that I’m really not going to come out of this alive. After I calm down Tony leaves me for a while, again reassuring me he will return.
As the music becomes more soulful I begin to sink into a terrible sadness and while quietly crying, I keep my hands over my face as if trying to hide from everyone. After a few minutes I’m aware of someone gently touching my head and shoulder and it’s then that I completely break down, sobbing inconsolably. Realising the person beside me is Tony, I turn towards him and allow myself to really let go into the sadness. As he holds me I cry out all my painful shit, which includes the physical and sexual abuse both during my childhood and adolescence. I tell Tony that I hate my father’s body. (My father never sexually abused me through intercourse).
When my distress finally subsides Tony covers me with my blanket and leaves me to recover curled up on the mattress. I continue to sob quietly for some time afterwards, then exhausted, I drift into a somewhat fitful sleep. Later, Tony returns and tells me he’s never seen me so grounded following a session. I give him one last hug and again thank him for his wonderful support in helping me through what was a very powerful experience.
Still quite bewildered, I sit up but quickly discover that emotionally I’m not yet ready to venture outside, so I remain sitting with my head in my hands for around a further twenty minutes, before leaving at 6.30pm”.
I went straight into the small room next door, where thankfully, I had total privacy to draw my Mandala which showed the varying degrees of anger and sadness I went through; firstly, there was the mild anger, then the baby lying face down, semi-conscious on the floor surrounded by the white light, followed by the intense rage, which eventually led to the almost intolerable sadness.
When I arrived in the kitchen I immediately sensed the lively atmosphere as everyone was in great form though as I was still feeling very fragile, both physically and emotionally, I didn’t really get involved but I definitely did benefit from the cheerful ambience.
At approximately 7.10pm we returned to the session room for our final group discussion. During the meditation I was still very much aware of my sadness and by the time we’d finished, I’d begun to cry a little. I was also deeply touched by some of the other people’s experiences and when it came to my turn to share, I remained very subdued, actually finding it quite difficult to talk.
Tony suggested I should stay in touch with my feelings over the next few days. As he was explaining what he saw during my session I suddenly realised that the paralyses I felt was most likely a memory of being very close to dying, probably associated with my very difficult birth. That insight both frightened and reassured me in some strange way.
It was around 8.30pm when we finished up. After tidying the room and saying our goodbyes I once more hugged and kissed Fiona and Tony, then left at 8.45pm. During the journey home I felt a heavy discharge coming from my vagina. Arrived home at 9.00pm.
Around half an hour later I was still feeling very delicate and was by then producing copious amounts of vaginal gunge. As I was not in the mood for discussing anything with anyone, I just rested for a while, then completely exhausted and without even having a cup of tea, I went straight to bed at 9.45pm.
Some Insights + Feelings From 25th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop
18th Mar, ’97:
I am slowly beginning to accept that maybe I do have an eating disorder and the desire to do something about it is becoming stronger. This acceptance may be arising out of last Sunday’s session.
23rd Mar, ’97:
Disturbing dream about working in a bank where Tony was my boss. Had terrible difficulty in filling out my first customer’s application form for something or other. Got it all wrong. When on my morning break was searching for a loo as I desperately needed to shit. All the cubicles were open-plan, but I needed privacy.
1st Apr, ’97:
At around 2.30pm suddenly became very tired. Slept for about one and a half hours. Dreamed of being in a very tight tunnel, barely able to move, with a huge spider trying to crawl over me. Was so terrified, I wanted to die.
During the night, more dreams about spiders trying to get me.
3rd Apr, ’97:
Cramps and runny guts. Dreadful nausea.
4th Apr, ’97:
As yesterday, only worse.
5th Apr, ’97:
Feels like glands in neck are swollen. Cramps and runs. Am I reliving childhood pain?.
6th Apr, ’97:
Headache, cramps, runs, nausea, body aching.
7th Apr, ’97:
Slight improvement on yesterday, except for violent nausea around mid-day, lasting around one hour. Slept for about twenty minutes.
Could my fear of spiders’ legs stem from momentarily glimpsing my mother’s open legs immediately following my birth?.
(image of mother’s open legs) (spider)
Very bad night’s sleep due to severe upper tummy pain. Lay awake in absolute agony for ages, then eventually when sleep did arrive, had nightmare about the bridge, close to where I lived as a child, opening up as I’m crossing it. Positively terrifying. (Even though my husband was with me, I crossed the bridge alone!).
16th Apr, ’97:
Dreamed I was in Paris where a Chinese girl booked me into a brothel. We all had to take our turn out on the street, but I didn’t want to be with any men, (they were also Chinese). Begged girl to withdraw my name. Afraid a man would trace me back to Ireland and kill me.
Also dreamed I was in my old flat. Giant spider’s web. Big spider chasing me around the room through its web. I was running backwards.
Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 17-20/4/1997
This was my fourth residential week-end.
It was definitely a full house with at least thirty four participants plus eight facilitators (Michael, Suzanne, Deirdre, Katherine, Fiona, Ellen, Colette and Dean). Again, Tony’s absence was painfully noticeable (for me).
In recent months I have been finding it quite difficult to write up my sessions, but this month in particular has proved to be the most gruelling.
Opening Night - Thursday 17/4/1997
Terrified all morning. Massive panic attack around 1.00pm which lasted for about one hour. Felt I couldn’t get out of somewhere. Rang Alan, my therapist.
Left house 4.25pm. Arrived at the Centre, 6.30pm. Met Brian, a former work-mate. Still felt very frightened. After having tea and rice cakes, rang my husband, but no answer.
At 7.40pm, all went into session room for introductions. During tea break, spoke with Brian. Returned to session room for Shamanic journey with Michael. After a brief explanation of the process, journey began at 10.00pm. This time I became a giant bird, like an eagle. When I realised I couldn’t fly, I became very sad. Cried for ages. Brought my legs up in a protective way and put my arms over my head and face. Finished up 11.30pm.
Had supper and talked, then tidied up kitchen. Went to bed 1.20am.
26th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 18/4/1997
Went into session room at 8.50am. The small group (13) sharing began around 9.10am and finished at 9.45am. Brian asked me last night to be his partner. The first session got going at 10.15am with him breathing. It was a great privilege to be able to help Brian and the facilitators. I cried towards the end when witnessing the love shown between the breathers and sitters and the facilitators for each other. Left the room 2.00pm.
After lunch, returned to the session room at 3.15pm for 3.30pm. I was so nervous I had to keep walking around. Eventually I calmed down and the afternoon session started at 3.45pm.
“After a while I develop a pain in my left shoulder, which is followed by the usual pins and needles in my hands. Then begins the shaking and yawning. Around forty five minutes, I become very agitated and begin to move. A short while later Katherine is behind me. I’m pushing my head into a cushion which eventually takes me into an intense anger, which in turn, leads me into some form of abuse. Grabbing Katherine’s hand, I press it forcefully against my vagina and begin to scream with absolute rage. Feel I’ve been violated. Realise this is responsible for needing to hide myself all my life. Scream “God help me” several times. Afterwards, Katherine leaves me to rest for a while.
Still lying curled up on the mattress, I suddenly begin to feel very nauseated. When Katherine returns I tell her I’m sick and she encourages me to go back into the breathing.
Almost immediately I begin to cough violently, spitting up lots of mucus, then the most frightening thing happens - I can’t catch my breath.
I start to choke. A massive blockage prevents me from breathing down beyond my throat. Terrifying. After a few minutes, Suzanne joins Katherine to help me. I now go over onto my hands and knees and continue to make horrible choking noises as I still struggle to breathe beyond my throat. Every so often I scream “I can’t breathe”, then go into a complete panic.
While Suzanne exerts pressure on my throat, I cough and gag forcefully in an effort to clear my chest, but it’s no good. I feel I’m not going to survive this, and at times, wish I could die. Now I’ve a sharp pain in the top of my head, and again, while Suzanne applies pressure to it, I continue my desperate struggle to breathe.
After a while air seems to be getting through down into my lungs and with joyous relief, I collapse on the floor, gasping and sucking in air like my actual life depended on it. Now all my physical discomfort begins to ease and I become a child, playful, touching in turn, the noses of Suzanne, Katherine and Brian, giggling exactly like a two year old. I have a great sense of being safe and loved, with a strong need to be taken care of. I am happy in my perfect little world.
Needing to rest, I curl up on the mattress, while someone covers me with the blanket. I drift in and out of a light sleep, then eventually leave the room at 8.00pm”.
After dinner, returned to the session room at 9.15pm for small group discussion. While describing my own experience, I realised I felt totally disconnected from the events of the session. Although I didn’t go into the intimate sexual details, I spoke about the overall traumatic experience as though I were discussing the weather.
We finished up around 10.30pm, then retired to the kitchen, where some of us remained ‘till 1.30am, then went straight to bed.
27th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 19/4/1997
Went into the session room at 9.00am for Naming Ceremony. My Angel Card was “Purpose”. First session at 10.00am with Brian again breathing first. After about ten minutes, I had to get Dean to sit with Brian while I had to shit again.
Around fifteen minutes later, I became absolutely terrified of the music and screaming. Once again, had to get Dean to take care of Brian for about half an hour, while he also helped talk me through my fear. He was brilliant. Began to settle down after a while, then eventually was OK enough to resume my sitter duties. Even though I had no problem in helping out when needed, I still felt very disconnected from everything. Brian was ready to leave the room at 1.35pm.
Following lunch, we returned to the session room at 2.45pm. I was so nervous I couldn’t lie down, so stood up talking to Brian and generally running around.
When Deirdre came over to give me a hug, I decided I would tell her about my vision I had following a session in January ’97, where I saw her in a very old dining room wearing a beige duffel coat. She told me that when she was in college over forty years ago, she did wear a beige duffel coat. I found this news rather disturbing but she explained that perhaps while I was still in my altered state, she may have passed by me and I just picked up her energy (something like that!).
It was 3.05pm by the time we began the afternoon session and I was really looking forward to the relaxation exercises to calm me down. They did help, so much so, that when I’d completed them, I was fully prepared for whatever my journey had to offer:-
“Around five minutes into the breathing I begin to shake violently and suddenly feeling very cold, I pull the blanket up around my neck. Some five minutes or so later I begin my usual yawning and start to feel the familiar pins and needles in my hands and arms, which for some reason I always find very reassuring.
As I continue with the breathing, a sharp pain develops in my left arm, but soon eases after I apply strong pressure to it. A while later, similar pains develop again, this time in the left side of my head, then down in my gut. As each discomfort arises, I do my own bodywork on it, screaming at the top of my lungs as I press deep into my body to release the energy.
In between all the agony, I’m aware of a tremendous sense of being guided through this journey, as if a being, far greater than myself, is telling me it’s finally OK to do this. At times, I’ve an overwhelming urge to cry with the joy this permission brings.
Now the intermittent yelling becomes one long gut-wrenching scream as I begin to rotate my body in what becomes my journey down the birth canal. As I’m travelling downwards, cushions are placed around my head, simulating the constricting pelvic bones, and once more my suffering becomes almost intolerable as I scream and push my way through the hellish darkness.
Suddenly I get this strange image of a huge purple vagina as I continue my navigation through the treacherous birth canal. I’m now aware of intense pressure on my head as I move into the opening which will eventually lead to my deliverance, and with what little strength I’ve left, I force my body deeper into the narrow winding passage until I finally emerge, head downwards, yelling my guts out in absolute terror. Hands are all around me, but I haven’t a clue who they belong to, because no one speaks.
Lying on my back I continue to cry out, my fingers desperately searching for the warm confines of my mouth. Eventually the terror subsides and is quickly replaced by an incredible feeling of total peace which completely fills my entire body.
I then fix my gaze upon a particular spot on the ceiling and stare at it for ages in total bliss. I’m vaguely aware of the painful sounds all around me but I’m not in the least disturbed by them. I just want these wonderful moments to last forever.
Slowly I return to some degree of reality and sit up, still feeling very peaceful, but somewhat aware of an underlying sadness deep in my gut. One of the facilitators, Colette, kneels beside me and asks if everything is OK. I tell her I’m fine because, for one thing, I’m still recovering from my birth experience and also I’m not yet ready to let go of my new-found blissful state.
Some time later Fiona also enquires how things are with me and I again admit to being fine, only this time I mention my feeling of sadness which seems too far buried to do anything about it. She suggests I lie down and try some bodywork.
As soon as Fiona places her hand on my upper tummy, I begin to whimper as the sadness is physically touched upon. She then gets me to breathe into it which soon has me screaming out in absolute rage at all the fuckers who’ve hurt me throughout my life. I shout “fuck you” many times while kicking out and thrashing my body all over the place, then when the anger finally subsides, I fall headlong into the inevitable pit of sadness which usually follows these awful outbursts.
Now I’m missing my adoptive mother. I’m five years old and in hospital for a tonsillectomy. She has just said goodbye to me and I’m feeling the desperate pain of separation. My cries are heart rending as I plead for her to return and take me home, but she doesn’t come. I know that this part of the session lasts quite a while, during which time I also deal with the many occasions when I experienced total isolation. Desperately needing just to be held, but never having that need met.
The suffering continues as I remember my mother dying and not being able to comfort her. At times, I become her, begging God over and over to let me die, just like I used to when I was a little girl.
Going over onto my hands and knees, I curl up into a little ball, while continuing to sob my heart out. I remain in that position for a long time, until completely overcome with grief, I lie back down and snuggle into Fiona, hoping she can ease my pain.
After a while I have this great need to tell my adoptive mother that I love her. Several times I choke on my tears while desperately trying to say those God damn words. Each time I try to begin with the word “I”, Fiona immediately urges me on with “that’s it, say it, say it” but my fucking throat just seizes up and all I can say is “I can’t, I can’t”. Eventually she tells me that perhaps, another day.
I remain curled into Fiona, cursing my inability to finally let go of the guilt associated with not being able to ever tell my mother that I loved her. The sad thing is, I don’t think I actually ever did love her, it’s more a case of feeling I should have.
By the time I’ve recovered, I’ve a deep sense of having dealt with a lot of painful shit today. I now become giggly and talk a lot of bullshit to Fiona, who, as always, knows how to handle it, so we both end up having a good laugh. After resting on my own for a long time, during which I sit with my blanket up around my head, I then turn to Brian and discuss some of my session with him. He tells me I finished up around 6.45pm and by 7.40pm, I’m ready to leave the room”.
I was feeling really high as I drew my Mandala in the dining room. After dinner went back into the session room at 9.15pm for the Cleansing Ceremony. This time, I actually felt relaxed enough to take part with everyone else in the centre of the room. As always, it was a beautiful and moving ceremony. Finished up around 10.45pm. Danced ‘till around 12.30am. Went into the kitchen and talked with Sarah, Abby, Debby, Don and Brian ‘till about 2.00am. Went to bed 2.05am.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
