15th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 11/8/1996

It was a somewhat cool and misty morning as I arrived at the Centre at 8.40am. Today, there were fourteen participants, including Maureen, my partner for today, who I met before at one of Lynn’s workshops.

To help out Tony and Fiona we also had Katherine, who was facilitating for the first time. I first met Katherine at the June’96 session, when I then observed how comforting she was to her partner during the evening discussion.

For some reason it was important for me today to breathe in the morning and as that suited Maureen, it worked out fine. After the usual introductions and meditation, the first session got underway around 10.00am. I settled quickly into the relaxation exercises, then allowed my breathing and the music to take me to yet another unknown destination:-

“About twenty minutes into the breathing I begin to develop strong labour-type pains with an irresistible urge to push. I’m not aware that I’m giving birth, more like I’m just trying to expel something from my body. The pain causes me to scream out and every so often I draw my knees up to relieve the terrible discomfort. Perhaps it’s because I’m dealing with some sort of birthing process, I find I’m still doing OK with the breathing.

After some time, during which not a great deal happens, I begin to feel the awful sense of abandonment so familiar when I was a very young infant. (A feeling experienced during many of my breathwork sessions). At first I cry, desperately longing to be held, then when no sign of comfort seems forthcoming, I begin to yell in anger, clenching my fists whilst curling my body up into a ball.

I’m not sure how long I remain like this, but the next thing I’m aware of is frantically trying to free myself from the suffocating confines of a narrow passage which becomes more life threatening by the minute.

I’m all over the place now, pushing and groaning and screaming with frustration at my failure to deliver myself from this shitty hell-hole. All I’m trying to do is to get born and I can’t even fucking do that without help. I’m so bloody angry. Finally, drained from all the effort, I just surrender to the dreadful sadness which eventually engulfs my whole being. My cries are deafening me, but there’s no escape from the relentless onslaught of painful feelings.

Now my distress takes me back to a time when I was again very tiny and needing to be cared for. This time there’s a definite sense of urgency in my crying as my hands open and contract with agitation.

So intense is my distress that I suddenly develop a fit of violent coughing, struggling to breathe and choking on lumps of sticky mucous. The coughing becomes gagging as I try to puke up horrendous feelings of repulsion towards some unidentifiable source. Almost immediately there’s a clear image of my adoptive father standing before me which causes me to gag even more forcefully as I realise that it’s his presence which is filling me with this horrible disgust. However, there seems to be no explanation for these feelings. Somebody is handing me tissues as I continue to spit up all that shit I’ve locked inside me for so long.

An overwhelming sense of both loss and anger now takes over. Still kneeling in the position I took when my gut was heaving, I begin to cry long hard sobs which rack my entire body. My only question is this:- why the fuck had I been so wrongly deprived of the most precious gift in life - LOVE.

I’m lying face down with my head in my hands, totally consumed by my terrible sadness, when I feel a hand gently stroking my back in a very sympathetic manner.

It moves up over my head, slowly caressing my hair. Like the young infant that I’d now become, I respond to the tenderness by suddenly turning into the arms of my comforter, whom I slowly recognise as Katherine.

Being held seems to fuel my emotions and now I’m once more desperately needing to feel loved and wanted. Katherine is such a good “mother”. She cradles me and strokes my hair while softly humming little lullabies. There is no anger left now, only the unceasing sadness. The more I cry, the closer I push my body into Katherine until my face is pressed hard against her neck.

I continue to yell out my suffering, the kind only a new born baby feels following the painful expulsion from its mother’s womb. I remain in this distressing state for quite some time. Slowly I begin to calm down, to find that all the wretched despair is now being replaced by a wonderful sense of total peace. It is at this time that I’m becoming aware, probably for the first time ever, of allowing myself to receive and respond to real affection which I never really experienced at any time in my life. My body has become a sponge, soaking up every touch and sound.

Now I am fulfilled, but feeling guilty at how long I’ve been with Katherine, I tell her it’s OK if she wishes to be with someone else who may need her. I give her one last long hug, still absorbing the unfamiliar feeling of being loved. A while later Fiona comes over to me. I’m lying beneath my blanket half asleep after having cried a lot when Katherine left me. I tell Fiona about a lot of shit things which I’ve never discussed with her before. I also ask for Tony, who later sits with me for a few minutes. He then asks me to rest for a while.

Once again, I go under my blanket, only this time I fall into a long deep sleep. By the time I finally wake up it’s 2.30pm. I’m really embarrassed about delaying everyone, but they assure me that it’s OK. Unfortunately, lunch time is very short for Tony, Fiona and my very kind partner, Maureen”.

Following lunch, I drew my Mandala which this time showed a small baby crying, surrounded by the colour blue, which depicted isolation.

We returned to the session room at 3.00pm. I felt very disorientated and worried about my ability to give Maureen the support that she might need. As it turned out she needed quite a lot of assistance during her session, and thankfully I was able to help. Maureen was ready to leave at around 6.30pm.

After tea we returned to the session room at 7.15pm. Following our short meditation we began the long evening discussion, during which I cried a lot when recalling my experience. Everyone was so patient and understanding which was a great help and went a long way towards making me realise that I wasn’t the horrible person I’ve always thought I was. At the end of it all I actually did feel good about myself.

We then held hands for a few moments after which Tony had all of us form a close circle around one person who needed to be hugged by everyone. I think most of us were touched in every sense by that experience.

Later I hugged and thanked everyone who helped make my journey such a fulfilling one, then left at 8.40pm. I arrived home at 9.00pm. absolutely exhausted. Shortly afterwards passed a large blood clot from my vagina and developed period-like pain.

Some Insights + Feelings From 15th Holotropic Workshop

22nd Aug, ’96:
I’m clearly aware of a change in my personality. For the past few days I’ve become more open with myself and others. I’m much more relaxed in the company of friends and neighbours. It feels like the real me is finally emerging from the high security prison I built within myself so long ago. It became my sanctuary, my only hope of survival when life became too painful.

Dreamed I was in a museum. This was no ordinary museum. It was more like something out of a Roald Dahl adventure, with lots of strange rooms, some painted bright red and green. Within these rooms were what appeared to be bookshelves, which, if you leaned against one, you could end up being transported down a long dark corridor that lead to nowhere really. The highlight of the dream was when I accidentally pressed a button on a big iron door which immediately swung open, whereupon, huge steel claw-like handles lifted me up onto the top of the door.

Instantly I felt the panic of being off the floor and suspended in mid-air. Then a strange thing happened; for the first time ever in a dream, I actually took control of the fear and didn’t allow it to ruin what was to become a most exhilarating and mind boggling experience.

Whizzing through the air at neck-breaking speed I allowed myself experience, for the first time and with great joy, the feeling of movement which was outside of my control. In reality, that is something which causes me great terror.

The dream continued with me being catapulted from one weird room to the next, my head, at times barely within inches of the great magnificently decorated ceilings. Another good story-line perhaps?.

14th Sept, ’96:
Shortly after waking did my meditation in bed. About thirty minutes later while listening to some Native American music, shouted out “No” in a very aggressive manner. Realised I was entering yet another spontaneous altered state and immediately brought myself out of it.

Soon afterwards saw an image similar to one I had following a previous breathwork session. It was of a tiny baby connected to the Universe by its umbilical cord, only this time the baby was a bright yellow light gently pulsating in the thin white amniotic fluid.

Also, I was floating upwards in a deep blue liquid which contained millions of small white dots resembling tiny stars or specks of snow. Although it lasted only a few seconds, it was truly beautiful.

16th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 28/9/1996

Arrived at the Centre at 8.55am feeling very nervous for some reason. There were twelve participants today, and again, I can’t recall all the names. However, I remember Gemma, who I first met at a weekend workshop. Today, she and I were partners.

Helping out Tony and Fiona was again Katherine. I was so happy she was going to be working with us. Following the meditation which started at around 9.20am. and the introductions, the first session started around 10.00am. Gemma was first to breathe. I’ve decided that morning sessions are not for me, as I’m far too exhausted for the afternoon. Gemma had quite a powerful experience but didn’t require much assistance from me. By 1.45pm. she had completed her session.

After lunch, which by then was 2.30pm, we returned to the session room, where as usual, I felt very nervous, but soon calmed down as Katherine took us through our relaxation exercises and into the breathing which would guide me into a very intense, yet fulfilling experience:-

“After about ten minutes of breathing, I’m aware of the familiar numbing sensation in my hands and feet. This continues for quite a long time before I begin the other familiar, though less pleasant, ritual of tossing my head from side to side like someone in the throes of a raging fever. All the time while doing this, I’m making mantra-like sounds in rhythm to my movements.

Around an hour into the session I start to scream out every so often, every muscle in my body tensing as I do so. Deeply regressed, I now move upwards towards the wall, trying to push my head through it.

The cushion behind me prevents me from hurting myself. Hands clasped tightly across my chest, my fingers slowly, in a somewhat uncoordinated manner, move upwards to pull at my neck and face. A few moments later my arms settle back into a crossed position over my chest.

It is at this point that the screaming really begins in earnest as I continue my struggle to break free from the hellish confines of my mother’s womb. Anger and frustration now give way to an overwhelming sadness and feeling of having failed miserably.

For some reason I’m unable to shed tears although I’m crying my guts out. After a while I come out of my altered state and have to go out for a pee. Gemma tells me it’s 4.15pm. When I return I can’t get back into anything and become very agitated, tossing and turning and flinging my arms in all directions. Unable to continue with the breathing, I make the unusual decision to seek help.

It’s Tony who immediately comes to my assistance, enquiring if I’ve any discomfort and suggesting that I close my eyes. As he applies pressure to the back of my neck, the intense pain sends me into a wild frenzy of screaming and kicking which seems to last an eternity. All the time Tony is encouraging me to let out the sounds. Now the discomfort moves to my upper chest, and again his pressure causes me to yell out all kinds of obscenities, one of them being “I hate you fucking bastards”, which I repeat over and over.

Whether or not it’s from all the screaming, I begin to choke and gag, telling Tony that I’m feeling sick. He tells me that’s OK and puts the basin beside me. I don’t vomit, but spit up lots of gunge into tissues, after which I feel exhausted and out of control. This process continues until eventually drained, I turn onto my back as Tony suggests.

The terrible discomfort is still in my upper chest and with Tony once more pressing down on it, I begin to make strange little sounds which I repeat like a mantra. These sounds then become the cries of a new born baby and last for around ten minutes or so.

By the end of it all I’m aware of having a very sore throat, but on the emotional side, I’m feeling very relieved and peaceful. Tony tells me it looks like I’ve had a very powerful birth experience and that I should be very careful with myself over the coming week. He remains with me for a while longer then leaves me to rest for a while. I leave the room at 6.15pm”.

Feeling very energised, I draw my Mandala which this time showed a young baby trapped between two iron gates. After tidying up and saying our goodbyes, I arranged a lift and arrived home at 8.45pm.

Didn’t feel much like eating or drinking anything though I did stay up watching MTV. When everyone had gone to bed I began to feel very isolated with my thoughts and cried for about half an hour before eventually going to bed at around 11.30pm.

Some Insights + Feelings From 16th Holotropic Workshop

9th Oct, ’96:
Returned to bed around 9.15am. Began to have very vivid memories from my childhood. These memories mainly consisted of brief glimpses of places, like the park where I used to play as a child. I could clearly see a wall which had some of its stonework missing, providing a convenient seat for the women who would knit while their babies slept in wonderful high prams alongside them. I could clearly see the colour of these stones.

Also, I could see the rust on a railing which ran the full length of the park. This was all very overwhelming.

10th Oct, ’96:
Again, returned to bed around 9.30am. This time went into altered state where I became a baby trying to be born. Went through all the familiar sounds and gestures. Later, I was a distressed young infant sucking hard on the back of my hand. Fell asleep.

Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 24-27/10/1996

This was my first residential workshop, the venue for which was a magnificent gothic house tucked away in the heart of Ireland’s countryside.

Thirty two participants, including myself, (16 breathers), were very lovingly supported at every stage throughout our personal journeys by five wonderful facilitators, namely:- Tony, Suzanne, Michael, Deirdre (recently qualified and a former partner of mine) and Ellen (who joined us on Saturday).

Opening Night - Thursday 24/10/1996

Halfway through the bus journey the weather took a turn for the worse. High winds and torrential rain, accompanied by some atmospheric thunder and lightning ensured my arrival, at the grand house at 7.25pm, would be reminiscent of a scene straight out of some grisly horror film.

As I walked towards the entrance gate I noticed the driver of a parked car in the gateway indicating to me. Because of the deafening sound of the rain, I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Walking towards him, I caught sound of the magic word “holotropic” and instinctively knew it was OK to ride with him. He introduced himself as Michael and as the name sounded vaguely familiar, I immediately felt safe with him.

We arrived at the large gothic house five minutes later and as I entered the hallway I felt very confused, almost in a dream-like state. After I’d been introduced to Debby, who was the administrator, I was shown to the kitchen, where a huge old range, complete with two very large kettles boiling on its hob, gave out a tremendous welcoming warmth.

I only had time for a mouthful of tea and one rice cake, before heading into the large assembly room at 7.50pm, which I later discovered would be the main “session” room. There, the three facilitators, Tony, Suzanne and Michael, talked about themselves and what the week-end would involve.

There were thirty two participants, including myself, so I felt very nervous introducing myself to so many people, especially as I was last in line. Matthew would be my partner.

Following a short tea break, we broke up into two groups - the new-comers going with Tony and Suzanne for an introduction to Holotropic Breathwork and the more experienced group returning to the “session” room with Michael for a Shamanic experience.

Firstly, Michael had us all relax for a while, then he gave a lengthy talk on Shamanism, explaining about the Higher and Lower Worlds and the rattle and drum that he would be using. With all of us sitting in a circle with our eyes closed, he slowly made his way around the group, shaking the rattle for a few seconds in front of each person in turn. For me, it had a very strange effect. I could see this blob of terror in front of me and I was so scared. It slowly subsided after Michael moved on from me.

Afterwards we all lay down and Michael began to beat the drum as he moved up and down between the circle. For ages this had no effect on me, then suddenly I began to have strong feelings of guilt, sadness and isolation. At one point I went deeply into the feelings and began crying quietly to myself for some time.

With Michael still loudly beating the drum, I began to have images of a small delph bird perched high in a tree, followed by a brief image of a holy statue of Our Lady, also in the tree. I did as Michael suggested earlier and asked these “guides” to help me through my journey tomorrow.

Everything was peaceful for a while, then I began to feel absolutely stoned, feeling the mattress rising up off the floor.

I truly enjoyed every minute of this experience. The beating of the drum changed rhythm and we all slowly came back to reality. I don’t know if I reached the Higher World, but I certainly found the experience a very powerful one. For me it was like a mild version of a breathwork session.

Straight after our journey, Michael handed around what he called a “talking stick” to anyone who felt like discussing their experience. About five people, including myself, were eager to share our wonderful stories.

When it was all over at around 11.30pm, we had another tea break, during which I felt very energised and talkative. After ringing my husband to let him know that I’d arrived safely, I then returned to the kitchen where the craic was mighty!

At around 1.15am, I decided I was tired enough to sleep, so headed off upstairs still feeling really good. I made up the bed, talked with my room-mate, did some writing, then lay down at 1.45am.

17th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 25/10/1996

Got up 6.50am after a terrible night’s sleep, with dreams of guilt and shame, then staying awake for ages after each dream. I was the first down into the kitchen, so I really enjoyed taking a long time over my breakfast.

Went into the session room at 8.55am, where we broke into three small groups. I was in Tony’s group of twelve. We talked about what happened for us last night and how we felt this morning, then we chose our partners. Matthew, was mine and as he wasn’t too fussed about when he would breathe, we decided I should go first. It was a good decision as I had half decided on that earlier in the morning. As we were sorting out our spaces on the floor, Deirdre, our fourth facilitator and former partner of mine, arrived and was warmly received by all who knew her.

The first session started around 10.00am, with Suzanne reading a poem while we all lay on our mattresses, then on tape, she took us through our relaxation exercises. It was all very peaceful. Very soon I was ready to commence my journey:-

“A short while into the breathing, my hands begin to close over on my chest and the usual pins and needles set in. As I descend deeper into the experience, I begin to moan and move about somewhat, then something happens for the very first time in my sessions.

Lying on my back, my hands move upwards towards my neck. Crossing my arms around my throat, I try to strangle myself, not with my fingers, but with the sides of my hands, the pressure against my throat causing me to cough and scream. I continue with this strange behaviour for quite a long time.

Now I’m really choking and begin to spit up gunge into the tissues that Matthew is handing me.

The coughing has become gagging and I instinctively reach out for the basin which Matthew places beside me. As I continue to choke and heave, I become aware of Tony’s voice encouraging me to let out the sounds, and for some reason I become very agitated, even though my gut is going through Hell. I don’t actually throw up, but I certainly manage to clear out a lot of gooey stuff from my chest. When I’m finished, I lie back down and Tony remains with me while I go back into the breathing.

An intense fear overwhelms me as I have a terrifying image of my mother’s glazed eyes staring through me and making awful growling sounds as she corners me near the doorway of our old living room. It is so frightening. I can actually feel the sheer terror that I used to experience during those episodes. My screams are now deafening as Tony continues to encourage me to let out the sounds. This part of the session goes on for a long time until finally exhausted, I curl up on the mattress and just want to be left alone. Before leaving me, Tony suggests that I continue on with the breathing.

My breath and the music (tracks from “The Songs of Distant Earth” and “Sacred Spirit”) now take me into a much happier place than before. I watch in complete awe as a magnificent brown horse and its rider jump over a huge brown fence towards where I’m lying. It seems to happen in slow motion, with no sense of danger to me whatsoever, leaving me in a state of complete ecstasy. I remain in this wonderful state for a long time, after which I rest for a while before leaving the room at around 1.30pm”.

During the lunch break I felt really good and eager to draw my Mandala, which depicted my visions of the brown horse and my mother’s staring eyes. I also tried to show how inside my head was feeling at the time of drawing my Mandala - very much like pieces of broken coloured glass.

We returned to the session room at around 3.30pm. During the early part of Matthew’s session I was in fine form, moving to the music and generally enjoying myself.

Towards the end, as the music became more sombre, I began to quietly cry, hoping Matthew wouldn’t need me. Lucky for me, he had a fairly quiet experience and slept for about an hour towards the end. As the session drew to its conclusion, I found it very difficult to get myself together, although I managed quite well in the end.

During dinner I was not very talkative, choosing just to listen in on conversations rather than joining in them. I felt somewhat sad and disorientated.

At around 9.00pm we returned to the session room for our second small group discussion. It was towards the end of this as people were recalling their painful experiences and especially when one girl who became absolutely ecstatic while describing her wonderful visions, that I was totally overcome by a flood of mixed emotions.

Firstly, I was so happy for the girl that I began to cry along with her, then almost immediately, my joy turned to despair. As we began our short period of meditation, Sarah, who was sitting next to me, placed a pink crystal in my hand, enclosing it with her own hand. I managed to contain myself for a few minutes before completely breaking down.

When the meditation had finished I immediately turned to Sarah who hugged me tightly, then I just wanted to be alone. After a couple of minutes Katherine came over and took me in her arms. It was then that I lost all control and sobbed so hard that it felt like I was going to die from the dreadful sadness that was coming up from the very depths of my being. When I finally recovered a little I began to feel so terribly guilty about upsetting everyone, and then when I found Tony he reassured me that everything was OK. I hugged him, as I needed to be held so much. We all left the room around 10.30pm.

I went straight up to my room where I cried alone for about fifteen minutes, which helped me to feel a lot better.

After that I did some writing, then went down to the kitchen where the atmosphere was very jovial indeed.

Although I still felt very sad, I opened up a lot to one girl in particular and she to me. As the night went on I began to realise how lucky I was to be among so many beautiful people, who although struggling with their own suffering, were ready to help others whenever necessary.

It was around 1.00am when I went back up to my room. Although I was fairly tired, I wasn’t quite ready to sleep, and as I felt my room-mate needed to talk, we stayed up for over an hour and really opened up to each other. I always feel very privileged when someone does that with me. We both did some writing, but I was the first to go to sleep.

18th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 26/10/1996

Woke up around 6.00am. Began to cry again, feeling really sorry for new mothers who have no one to discuss with, the huge experience they’ve just been through. For a long time I’ve thought that this may be a contributing factor in post-natal depression, as the birth possibly re-opens past traumas, leaving the mother then desperately needing to talk through all her fears and anxieties. I missed my own children. I finally got up around 7.10am to have my shower.

At 9.00am we all went into the session room, where following a short meditation, Tony, Suzanne and Michael led us through a lovely Naming Ceremony, whereby each one of us in turn called out three names that were important to us, and then the group repeated them back to us.

It was around 9.45am when the first of today’s sessions got underway. Matthew was first to breathe. I never lacked so much confidence as a sitter as I did this morning. I really felt I would not be able to cope and even during the early stage I was in a total panic. All I could do was sit and rock myself, at times, very violently. Overall, Matthew had quite a powerful session, so towards the end he needed to sleep.

It was at this point that sheer panic set in with me. Tony sat beside me and I told him how I was too terrified to go back into the outside world tomorrow.

I also told him it might be because I was moved around so much as a young child, that when I settled in someplace, I found it very painful to leave. He was so understanding and promised he would help me as much as he could this afternoon. Matthew was ready to leave at around 1.00pm, and as before, he didn’t need any help afterwards, except for a glass of water.

Following dinner, the afternoon session started at 3.30pm. As we settled on our mattresses, I was extremely nervous while listening to Suzanne reading yet another beautiful poem. By the time I completed the relaxation exercises, I was calm enough to begin my journey:-

“Around ten minutes into the breathing I begin my usual scratching and yawning. Following that, the familiar pins and needles also set into my hands and arms, and about twenty minutes later, my head begins to roll from side to side. Shortly afterwards I raise my legs, then minutes later, I let them fall open. There is pressure on my lower tummy and down into my vagina, and I begin to wriggle in the effort to free myself from this discomfort. Almost immediately I start screaming and crying “No, no, no”, as I try to push away an imaginary person or thing off me. This continues for what seems to be about an hour. Every so often I turn over onto my side, and in a curled up position, I make comforting little noises, rocking my body really hard as I do so.

Now I begin to arch my back, pushing my head into the cushion behind me. As I start to rotate, someone takes hold of my head, and I recognise the voice as Tony’s. He continues to apply pressure to my skull which has me screaming and kicking out in resistance, until finally, exhausted by physical pain, particularly in my head, I no longer need to push free from my place of confinement.

I’m now confronted with the most dreadful part of my journey - my fear. As always, it’s a big black jelly-like substance hovering inches away from my face. Tony desperately tries to get me to go through it, but I’m too scared, beginning to cough and choke each time I make even the slightest attempt to move towards it.

Still, I force myself to try and reach out and touch it, but I only begin to gag and spit as it really nauseates me. This part of the session continues for what could have been the best part of two hours.

Out of all this terror comes something truly beautiful. Lying on my back I see a tiny Chinese man with a little yellow face, dressed all in black and he’s slowly making his way down from the ceiling towards me in a kaleidoscope of colours. I’m giggling and making excited little sounds as I reach out to touch him, but he stops just as I’ve almost made contact. He’s so beautiful and I’m so happy that I want this moment to last forever, but sadly it’s gone in a flash, although I’m not left feeling sad. In fact, quite the opposite has happened. I’m filled with a wonderful sense of peace, the like of which I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

As I near the end of my session, Tony moves me back up onto the mattress, and as he’s doing so, I become very frightened, not knowing what’s happening to me. He reassures me that everything’s OK. Somebody covers me with the duvet and I curl up and rest for a while.

I’m not sure what length of time elapses before Ellen comes over and asks me if I would like a hug. I eagerly accept her offer, and as she sits back against the wall, taking me in her arms, I cuddle in as close as I can possibly get, while she wraps me up in the duvet. I’m once again a tiny baby sucking on the back of my hand and feeling so secure. Ellen constantly talks to me, telling me “what a pretty little baby” I am and soforth. I respond with satisfied little noises. This is Heaven and I don’t want to leave it.

After about half an hour or so I’m feeling safe enough to leave Ellen’s arms and after I’ve given her lots of hugs, I settle down on the mattress once again for another little rest, before leaving the room at 7.50pm”.

I was on a complete high walking into the kitchen and spoke to everyone I met. In the dining room I remained by myself and drew my Mandala while eating my dinner at another table.

I couldn’t sit down while eating. My Mandala was of a person with legs wide apart and arms raised in a protective posture. Three red circles depicted anger and one large circle represented sadness. After dinner, I returned to the kitchen where I helped with the washing, tidied up and chatted excitedly with everyone. I was having a ball.

I think it was around 10.00pm when we all returned to the session room for the Cleansing Ceremony. This lovely celebration began with Suzanne and Michael slowly moving down through the room “cleansing” each one of us and the walls with a smudge stick. Following that, all the facilitators “cleansed” each other, then it was our turn.

With beautiful Native American music in the background, one partner stood, arms and legs slightly apart, while the other partner slowly moved the smudge stick all around his/her body. It was a very moving experience, although as per usual, I couldn’t exactly enjoy mine as I was so nervous.

When it was all over at around 11.00pm, the dancing began with the sound of M People’s “Search for the Hero”. Everyone just did their own thing which was really great. By around midnight, most people had left the room.

Continuation 26/10/1996 - Closing Day 27/10/1996

Remained in the session room alone, dancing 'till 1.15am. The music sounded like a mixture of Indian and African rhythms which practically hypnotised me. My movements had real meaning, as though the dance itself was a kind of cleansing and setting free from my body all the painful shit which had accumulated over the course of my life. I was totally lost in the whole experience.

When I returned to the kitchen there were lots of people still up. I could feel energy oozing from my fingertips and told Deirdre and a few others about it. I was absolutely flying. Later, my room-mate, Pauline still had a lot of tension in her body following her session earlier on, so a lady called Sorcha offered to help her out with some bodywork right there in the kitchen. As it showed no sign of working, Sorcha decided it might be best to do it out in the session room.

It was around 3.00am, when Sorcha, Pauline, Debby (our administrator) and myself headed out into the session room, where Debby put on some music and Pauline lay face down on a mattress. As she was cold, Sorcha got me to cover her with a duvet and then light a candle. I sat back and observed as Sorcha worked on Pauline’s neck for about half an hour or so. In the end it seemed to help her. When we returned to the kitchen we talked for ages, then as I was completely nackered, I went up to bed at 4.45am (old time). Slept 'till around 6.30am (new time).

Got up 7.10am. Physically, felt fine, but inside my head was a mess although the sense of peace from last night still remained.

At around 1.15pm, towards the end of the last small group sharing, I became very emotional as I listened to all the pain and suffering that was being expressed. Also, I knew that very soon I would be leaving my sanctuary and all the people I'd come to regard as my new "family". It was around 3.00pm, at the beginning of the Closing ceremony, that I suddenly began to feel really dreadful. Sitting at the back of the session room, I became very dizzy and my vision began to blur. Almost immediately I developed a blinding headache on the left side of my head and my heart began to pound in my throat. As I sat there nackered, feeling the blood draining from my face and my left hand becoming numb, I began to realise that this was the combination of a migraine and my first real panic attack in many years.

Although I felt I was going to pass out, I couldn't bring myself to leave the room. Instead, I just sat with my head in my hands for most of the time, which unfortunately caused me to miss out on most of Suzanne and Michael's discussion.

At 4.40pm got a lift home with Des and another woman who was going into the city centre. I chose to sit in the back seat as I didn't feel up to joining in any conversations. During the journey I felt very disorientated and also my head was still pounding. At times I became very nauseated and prayed I wouldn't have to get Des to pull over.

Totally exhausted. Burning sensations all over my body. Went to bed 9.00pm.

Some Insights + Feelings From 17th / 18th Holotropic Workshops

15th Nov, ’96:
Is it possible that my personality split in many directions when I was very young, in order to firstly, enable me to enter an imaginary world, where my imaginary friends were really part of me, and secondly, but above all, to help me survive?.

19th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 17/11/1996

Arrived at the Centre at 8.40am with the weather a wonderful combination of very low temperatures and bright hazy sunshine.

There were twelve of us altogether, with some familiar faces from previous workshops.

Began the meditation and introduction around 9.10am, after which we chose our partners. Teresa chose me. At 9.50am, we began the first session, with me breathing first.

As per usual I was very nervous, but when Fiona sat with me for a couple of minutes I began to relax a little. Tony also came over for a brief moment. Following my relaxation exercises, I was ready to begin my journey:-

“After about ten minutes of breathing, I begin yawning every couple of minutes, then begin to feel the pleasant tingling sensations in my hands and feet. Around half an hour later, I become a distressed young infant, constantly pulling at my fingers, face and back of my hand. This terrible despair lasts for a very long time, with feelings of intense loneliness, abandonment and a terrifying feeling that my cries for help will go unheard forever. At last it appears like someone is feeding me, as I suck greedily on an invisible tit, be it flesh or rubber, I’ll never know. I’m feeling sleepy but also needing to shit.

I return to the breathing which now takes me back into the birth canal, and once again as always, I’m struggling to get free, my anger building up to exploding point. Rotating my body backwards on the mattress, I scream and kick out until every ounce of energy is drained out of me. Having reached the stage where I can go no further, I just curl up and try to find momentary solace in sleep.

Realising that this will not get me anywhere, I again go back into the breathing. Now I’m aware of pushing someone or something off me. My legs are closed but my arms are flying all over the place. I’m not sure how long this distressing stage of the session lasts for.

Following a few more breaths, I find myself in a very peaceful place. Slowly running my fingers through my hair, I’m making soothing little sounds and finding the whole thing very funny. As I gently massage my forehead, I’m aware of all the suffering going on around me, but I’m too deep into my own ecstasy to be affected by it. I rest for a while.

An overwhelming sadness descends upon me and tears roll down my face as I allow myself sink deeper into my despair. The memory of my adoptive parents telling me that I was adopted is the core of my sadness. I’m remembering the cruel way they spoke about my natural mother, condemning her for my illegitimacy, how I was her punishment for her sins, how God further punished her by making her hate me so much that she wouldn’t even look at me the moment I was born. The agonising list is endless.

There is so much anger in there too, as I recall how, at least once a week throughout the early, and even adolescent years of my life, I was repeatedly reminded of my mother’s sin and that I should never, ever, admit to anyone that I was adopted, as people would consider me a bastard, and therefore would refuse to have anything to do with me.

What deepens my sadness is the insight, that the pain I’m going through now, is the pain I should have experienced on that first day when, at six years of age, I was so ruthlessly informed of my adoption. But how could I respond, when, in order to survive, I’d shut down all my emotions, probably from the day I was born.

At one point, while really sobbing my guts out, I suddenly choke on my tears and become terrified as I cannot catch my breath.

Images of saying my final farewells to my adoptive mother, as her body lay in the hospital chapel now become very clear. I cry for the love that we’d never been able to express for each other. I scream in anger, remembering all the humiliating beatings I received from her in public, and cry while tenderly remembering the few occasions when, in her right mind, she would briefly have little conversations with me and appear to be on my side when things got bad between me and my adoptive father. Still crying straight from my guts, I turn over onto my side and curl up into my protective ball.

Some time later I’m aware of Fiona kneeling beside me and it’s a long time before I can tell her what’s bothering me. She is so patient. Eventually, I gradually describe my experience and as I’m doing so, she’s gently caressing my head and back. There is no end to this grief. It’s as if I’m mourning my own death which came about while still in my mother’s womb.

Fiona covers me up and leaves me to rest for a while. I remain on the mattress for ages, quietly sobbing and refusing all offers of comfort from my partner. By 1.40pm I’m ready to leave the room”.

Feeling totally shattered, I retreated into the small room off the session room where I drew my Mandala. This one portrayed a small distressed baby, a red ball of anger, a little girl with outstretched arms and a large black ball of sadness with a smaller red ball of anger in its centre.

I then went down to the kitchen where I just about managed to have some rice cakes and fennel tea. I wasn’t very talkative so returned to the small room for some peace and quiet.

The afternoon session got underway at 2.40pm. Teresa, my partner, needed a lot of help from me with her breathing. For most of her session I was fine, then as the music became more sombre, I started to go back into my own pain again.

Everything was OK until Teresa moved right off the mattress. I went blank and couldn’t prevent her from almost rolling into the dangerous path of another breather’s flaying feet. Inside, I went to pieces. Fiona came to my rescue (and Teresa’s) and reassured me that everything was fine and that there was nothing I could have done once Teresa had moved off the mattress. It didn’t make me feel any better.

Towards the end of the session, when Teresa was resting peacefully, Tony came over and sat beside me. I just turned to him and completely went to bits, telling him how guilty I was feeling about what had just happened and how sad I was still feeling. He was very supportive and also reassured me that everything was fine. I’d managed to stop crying just as Teresa was ready to sit up. We were the last to leave the room at around 6.30pm.

At about 7.15pm we returned to the session room for our brief meditation and discussion. I still felt very emotional, not wanting to talk very much with anyone. When it was my turn to describe my experience, I found it very difficult to raise my voice much above a whisper and started to cry a little when Fiona commented on how she felt my experience was for me.

I was too distressed to help tidy up, so I just got my things together and was offered a lift home from Teresa. We left at 8.30pm. During the journey, I developed a dreadful cramp in my stomach.

When I arrived home at 8.45pm, getting to the loo as quickly as possible took precedence over everything else, as I knew I was in for a bad dose of the runs. Afterwards I definitely didn’t feel like discussing my day with anyone, so I just had something light to eat and a cup of Camomile tea. At around 10.00pm, my gut erupted again. Completely exhausted and feeling totally miserable, I went to bed shortly before 11.00pm.

Some Insights + Feelings From 19th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop

17th Nov, ’96:
The horrendous sadness that I felt during the session was actually the feelings I should have felt when I was told by my adoptive parents, at six years of age, about my adoption when I was two and a half years old. Because I had completely shut down my feelings from a very early age, I could no longer react to this terrible horror story. Today was the first time in thirty eight years that I could allow myself to feel the pain.

Also, the incident involving my partner moving off her mattress, triggered the same feelings of guilt and inadequacy I felt, but again never expressed, when I witnessed my adoptive mother trying to kill herself at the top of our stairs when I was only about seven or eight years old.

18th Nov, ’96:
Returned to bed around 9.00am. When waking at 12.20pm, suddenly realised that my imaginary friends never really existed and that I’d have to eventually let go of them. That realisation was both physically painful and terrifying.

19th Nov, ’96:
During my therapy session, while discussing above insight (18/11), felt that Sunday’s session has in some way blasted my personality to pieces, liking it to the beginning of the world, the Big Bang. Could this be the BEGINNING of the REAL ME - all the shattered pieces falling together to form my true self?

Also, my fear of thick cables in tunnels, could it be a memory of seeing my umbilical cord while in my mother’s womb? (i.e sunlight shining through the womb might enable the baby to see a hazy image of the cord).

Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 28/11 - 1/12/1996

This is my second residential week-end.

There were between thirty and thirty four participants, including myself, along with our five wonderful facilitators, namely:- Tony, Suzanne, Michael, Deirdre and Katherine.

Opening Night - Thursday 28/11/1996

By the time I arrived at the bus station around 4.00pm, I was feeling pretty low as I’d just come from the adoption agency where I’d been discussing my natural mother’s death with my social worker. There was the usual hustle and bustle you’d expect to find at any transport station and as I was feeling emotionally fragile, I decided to seek refuge in the more tranquil surroundings of the station’s small restaurant where I had a cup of Camomile tea and an apple.

I had planned on catching the 5.30pm, but on checking the time table, I discovered there a bus due to leave at 5.00pm. I couldn’t make up my mind which one to go for until I saw Don, who I knew from previous workshops, standing in the queue, but as I was almost the last to board the bus, it was packed, so I had to stand for the entire journey.

We arrived at 6.15pm and had to walk the full trek to the house in the pitch dark and lashings of rain. Drenched to the bone, we had a good old laugh all the way, which helped cheer me up no end.

Debby immediately gave us our room numbers so as we could change out of our soaking clothes and dry off. After having some rice cakes and tea, I went into the session room to help put the covers on the mattresses and get the room ready for the first large group later on.

It was around 7.45pm when we eventually gathered for the first talk and introductions. As always, I felt very nervous introducing myself to what appeared to be over thirty participants.

After a short break I joined the small group with Tony for people who had done three or more workshops and this started around 9.00pm. We finished around 10.05pm, then most people headed back into the kitchen for the usual late night chat, which can sometimes last well into the early hours.

During Tony’s earlier talk I became very sad and by the time I’d arrived in the kitchen, I was feeling so down, I was incapable of holding a conversation with anyone and began crying quietly to myself. As I didn’t want to upset people, I went up to bed at 10.55pm to discover that Sarah was my room-mate. She was sitting up in bed and as soon as I went over to greet her, I broke down and sobbed my heart out, telling her about the day my adoptive parents fucked up the rest of my life by telling me that my birth mother hated me. It was so good when Sarah held me. She confided in me too. After two hours of consoling each other, we settled down to sleep at 1.00am.

20th Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 29/11/1996

Woke up several times during the night and at one stage lay sobbing really hard for ages. Got up at 6.50am, feeling like total shite.

After breakfast, I helped out in the session room, getting everything ready for the day’s events, then at 9.00am, we had our first small group meeting. There were eight people in Tony’s group. Following the short meditation and introductions, Margaret chose me as her partner. The first session started at 10.00am with me breathing:-

“Around twenty minutes into the breathing, I begin to feel I’m a very distressed young baby, pulling at my hair and fingers. From there I begin to experience a terrible burning sensation in my arse which I immediately associate with the memory of having an enema when in hospital for a tonsillectomy at five years of age. To make things worse, I feel as if I’ve shit myself, which distresses me even more.

Sometime later, I’ve crossed my wrists together over my head and it appears as though I’m chained to the ceiling of a horrible grey dungeon. It feels so real.

Suddenly, there is extreme pain in the left side of my tummy, which has me screaming and twisting my body in agony. Now I’m in one of my tunnels again trying to be born, and as always, I’m stuck and very angry. Begin crying in despair and ask for Tony, who comes over about ten minutes later.

As there is a lot of pressure-type pain in the top of my head, he begins to work really hard on that, applying lots of pressure and encouraging me to let out all the sounds. At one point, I beg to die because of the intense pain, but he just keeps on working on me.

I become really angry, screaming “fuck you” every couple of minutes, then suddenly, it’s as if I feel this is my last chance to break free, and driven by the combination of sheer anger and dogged determination, I push as hard as I can against Tony’s hand. Afterwards, I feel so much better. Completely exhausted, I rest on the mattress for about three quarters of an hour before leaving the room at 1.05pm”.

I went straight into the dining room where already a few people were having lunch, and after drawing my Mandala, which depicted the grey dungeon, the tunnel, a baby being born and my anger, I was only too happy to sit down and relax while having my lunch of a small salad and rice cakes.

The afternoon session got going at 3.45pm. Margaret had a powerful session, moving around quite a lot but I coped very well even though I was exhausted. She finished at 7.50pm. I made her a cup of tea and after she’d finished her Mandala, I brought in her dinner.

At 9.00pm we went back into the session room for our small group meeting. I went through everything in my session, which was very brave of me, since it entailed describing things which I’ve never spoken about to anyone before. We finished at around 10.15pm. I felt very nervous as I asked Tony if I could have a quick word with him.

I wasn’t quite sure if I could go through with this, but yet something was telling me it was the right time and place. I very briefly told Tony about some of the embarrassing and disturbing incidents from my childhood, e.g. being sexually abused in a park near my home when I was around eight or nine, being touched by two middle-aged male neighbours, being physically abused by my adoptive parents throughout most of my childhood, having my breasts touched by my adoptive father at every available opportunity, the painful medical procedures (tubes up my arse and down my throat), and the time I lost control of my bowel for over twenty four hours when I was about eight years old.

Tony was brilliant, reassuring me that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, should any of these issues come up in a session. Being actually able to talk like this for the very first time proves I’m getting close to something really big. It’s a huge step forward.

Went upstairs and talked to Sarah for a while then came back down to the kitchen where I joined in some of the conversations while having my rice cakes and tea. Wrote up my session, then went to bed at 1.25am.

21st Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 30/11/1996

Got up at 6.50am. After having my shower and breakfast, I helped get the session room ready for the Naming Ceremony. At 9.00am the large group gathered and as I was feeling sick and very nervous, I decided it was safer to sit at the back of the room.

Following the meditation, we then picked our Angel Card. Mine was “surrender”. As with the last Naming Ceremony, I again chose the names, “Ann, Margaret, Ann”. We finished up around 10.00am then got the room ready for the first session of the day, with Margaret being the first to breathe.

It was the most powerful session that I’d ever partnered, and although I was exhausted, I felt so in touch with the adult me and so happy for Margaret, it was overwhelming. She was ready to leave the room at 1.06pm. After I’d made her a cup of tea and tidied up our space, I found I was shaking when I arrived in the kitchen, but God, did I feel so good. Had some salad and rice cakes for lunch, then returned to the session room at 2.45pm for the afternoon performance.

I continued to feel good as I settled down to chat with Margaret about everything, from how new-born babies should be treated by the medical staff, to my feelings about the possibility of a universal sound, similar to the one we all make during a breathwork session. I enthusiastically continued this conversation with Katherine when she briefly joined us.

A few moments later, Tony sat beside me and I told him how nervous I was and how relieved I felt at being able to share my distressing lifelong secrets with him. During the relaxation exercises, I calmed down sufficiently to allow myself be open to whatever and wherever my breathing would take me:-

“After about ten minutes of breathing I begin to shake from head to toe, which lasts for a very long time. On and off during this I go into what I can only describe as short waking dreams, where, at one stage, I visualise my partner, Margaret, as having gone out to have her hair dyed brown, then returning and standing before me. I go straight from that vision into another, followed by others, which for some reason, I can’t remember.

Now I’m aware of talking to myself really fast and getting very giggly, sometimes roaring with laughter. My hands are tingling, my right leg hurts and every few minutes I yawn. The breathing is going really well as it’s going right down into my stomach, something which hasn’t happened for ages.

Sometime later, I develop a sharp pain in my upper gut which leaves me unable to move my body without feeling agonising discomfort. Further into the session, I begin to experience bouts of intense anger which cause me to scream out. From there I begin to cry as I remember the separation from my adoptive mother when I was admitted to hospital at five years of age for a tonsillectomy. I’m really feeling the pain of that separation and it’s tearing me apart. I cry for a long time.

As I’m turning over onto my side I half open my eyes to see Katherine lying beside me. I continue to cry for my mother who has abandoned me in this godforsaken hell-hole. I don’t hate her, I love and miss her. Jesus, how I need her to come back and hold me just for one tiny minute. I choke on my tears.

Arching my back, I push my head as hard as I can into the cushion behind me. Katherine places her hand on my head and I hear her voice urging me to really let out the sounds. There is so much anger in me. Screaming from the depths of my gut, I cough and choke on the gunge that is building up in my throat, until finally, I have to spit it out into the basin.

It is then that I become aware of the massive lump in my stomach which I desperately need to get rid of.

Katherine, recognising my grimace, tells me it’s OK to be sick. Panic of some sort sets in and I instinctively go over onto my hands and knees where I begin to heave up mouthfulls of slimy gunge. Someone, probably Katherine, is holding my forehead and stomach and urging me to get it all out. As there was practically no food in my gut to begin with, my retching is becoming more painful by the minute, and by now I’m suffocating on the vile tasting liquid which has just gushed up through the back of my nose.

After some time I take up a sitting position and rest for a few minutes, before once more being seized by another irresistible urge to throw up. I continue like this for what must be well over an hour. Katherine now has me lie on my back and after I recover somewhat, she tells me she’ll return later.

I return to the breathing and find myself back in my anger, screaming and pounding the mattress with my hands and feet. Exhausted, I rest for a while. A terrible sadness now takes over and I move forward to the foot of the mattress, where in a kneeling position, I begin rocking myself back and forth.

Eventually, I turn onto my back and resume my breathing, which again returns me to my feelings of total despair. I lie there crying, not knowing who or where to turn to for help. After a while Deirdre is beside me inquiring if my body hurts and whether I want to be called Margaret. As soon as she addresses me by that name, I become very sad and cry, without really knowing why.

While Deirdre applies pressure to my head, I scream out in a combination of anger and terror. Suddenly I want to get out but she won’t let me move a bloody inch, so in wild exasperation, I scream “let me out, you fucking bitch”. Deirdre encourages me to keep it going and as I scream and kick, she makes it even more difficult for me to move. I rest for a while.

I’m not sure whether I’ve been reminded to breathe or if I go back into it on my own but somehow I’m back into my rage and frustration.

Deirdre does not give up too easily and for a very long time afterwards, she works really hard with me.

It must be around an hour or so later when Tony asks me if I recognise him, and as it takes me a few seconds to answer, I realise that I’m in a very strange state of mind indeed. It’s as if I’m half pissed and don’t give a shit what’s happening to me. When he asks me where I am and why I’m here, I just start to giggle hysterically and he becomes very stern with me, telling me that he’s serious and needs me to cooperate.

A while later I’m aware of Tony asking me where in my body do I hurt and I tell him, my head and chest. I also tell him about the feeling of my throat closing up. He then begins to apply pressure to my head and neck which causes me to scream out in agony and it’s from here on, that my recollection of events becomes very hazy, so much so, that I can only outline the most profound moments of the remaining session.

For a very long time Tony works really hard on my chest and during this there are moments when I feel that I’m really going to die. Filled with sheer terror, I try my utmost to loosen his hold on both my forehead and throat, but to no avail. He tells me that if I want to get better then I’m going to have to go through the pain. My main memory of those hours is of really screaming my guts out, the dreadful sensation of suffocating and the almost relentless unbearable pain.

Towards the end, when I’ve sort of got myself together and I’m lying on my back, I look up at the ceiling and imagine it’s a huge panelled door about to fall down on top of me. Also I visualise long spidery legs hanging from the roof. I think all of this lasts for only a few seconds, during which time I’m absolutely terrified.

As I slowly begin to come back to reality, a wonderful sense of calm takes over. I feel I’m a new born baby, lying quietly, taking everything in. My body moves in slow motion.

At some point, Tony asks me how I would like to finish the session, so I tell him that I’d like a hug. Both he and Deirdre lie quietly on either side of me, cradling me with their warm bodies, while I just soak up all this wonderful feeling of human contact.

Finally, when Tony and Deirdre feel it’s safe enough for me to leave the room, they help me onto my wobbly feet and walk me out into the corridor, where at first, I have difficulty in adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights. As I’m not one hundred percent sure where I am, I’m slightly freaked out by a small group of people standing talking against the wall. I tell Tony that this place feels like a hospital.

They take me on into the kitchen and seat me at the table, where I glance up at the clock to discover that it’s 9.30pm. Unable to believe my eyes, I ask someone to confirm the time. I’m completely dumbfounded”.

Tony got my dinner from the oven and placed it before me, telling me that afterwards, I should go to bed and that I didn’t have to attend the Cleansing Ceremony. I found the idea of being alone in my bedroom very frightening, besides, I wanted to sit in on that very special ceremony, even though I felt unable to take part. I ate a few small pieces of roast potato and had a cup of herb tea, after which I felt a tiny bit better. My partner Margaret, Sarah and Katherine stayed with me for a while, then we headed off to the session room for the beautiful Cleansing celebration.

As I didn’t feel up to taking part in the “smudging” ceremony in front of everybody, I asked Katherine if she could “smudge” both myself and Margaret separately, and she willingly obliged. I remained at the back of the room where I felt fairly inconspicuous and listened to the enchanting singing of a very old Native American Indian (on tape!). It was in great wonderment that I watched as each set of partners tenderly “cleansed” each other in turn with the “smudge” stick.

Immediately following the ceremony, the dancing began, but on this occasion I would sit it out, content with being just a spectator.

Curled up on a bean bag, still feeling very spaced out and weak, I gazed in absolute amazement at the intense energy of everyone, including Suzanne, as they danced and frolicked around with huge balloons. Later, Suzanne came over and talked with me for a few minutes. I told her how bewildered I was feeling and gave her lots of hugs.

Over the following half hour or so, lots of people, including Deirdre, Katherine and Margaret sat with me briefly and I hugged them all. At around 12.00am, feeling extremely tired and slightly frightened, I decided to trade the vibrant disco sounds of the session room for the peace and tranquillity of my bedroom. Well, that had been my intention.

Continuation 30/11/1996 - Closing Day 1/12/1996

Left the session room where the dancing was still in full swing around 12.00am. Sat in kitchen 'till around 1.15am, then went into dining room to draw my Mandala. It was the first one I ever really coloured.

I decided the whole inside of the circle should be red to depict pain and the actual circle black, to represent my dying but as I didn't die, I left the circle slightly open. Outside of all that was more red for the pain which followed my dying process, then finally, sky blue with small flecks of white, to give the sense of peace which filled my entire being at the end of all my suffering.

Went up to my room where I found Sarah very upset. Sat talking with her 'till 2.45am then went to bed. Shortly after I lay down I let out several growls as my body jerked involuntarily. Slept fairly OK with some weird dreams.

Got up 7.40am. Physically felt very fragile. My chest was the sorest part of me. Following my shower and breakfast tidied up art room and session room.

Small group formed at 10.00am. I still felt spaced-out but emotionally fine while describing yesterday's session. It was only when we all held hands at the end that I completely broke down and cried my guts out.

At 1.00pm we returned to the kitchen for lunch. Had to leave the table at one point because I was so upset but when I returned I was feeling a bit better.

Afterwards, stripped my bed and packed my clothes then just walked around the building for a while.

Around 3.00pm we all went back into the session room for the Closing Ceremony. I sat at the end of the room fearing that I might panic like I did last month, but I was fine.

Home 5.10pm A bit hungry so had some waffles and tea. Really needed to talk about my experiences so hubby stayed in the kitchen with me while I recalled in great detail all the events of the week-end. Later, felt a bit sick and dizzy with the rest of my body aching. Went to bed 10.40pm.

Some Insights + Feelings From 20th/21st Holotropic Breathwork Workshops

14th Dec, ’96:
Dreamed that I was getting ready for a breathwork session. I’m not sure which centre it was, but the workshop was being run by Sarah, my room-mate from the Nov’96 week-end. There seemed to be about 10 or 12 other participants, but as it turned out, I was to be the only one who would be “breathing”.

Sarah arranged for us all to go down to a “session” room, but once there, I immediately noticed there were no mattresses and I became very anxious. She informed me that I would be breathing alone, but beforehand, I would have to be wrapped up.

Everyone was sitting at what looked like old school desks and I expressed my dismay at the thought of them all just staring at me.

With the help of another girl, Sarah placed 3 pink blankets around me then tied them securely around my body with some kind of tape. When I realised that I couldn’t move my arms, I abruptly woke up in a state of sheer panic. I remained very disturbed for quite a while afterwards.

18th Dec, ’96:
In the early afternoon, began to feel a dreadful choking sensation in my throat, along with the feeling of having someone stand on my chest. It lasted for about an hour, during which time I coughed a lot, and at times, found it quite difficult to breathe.

19th Dec, ’96:
Returned to bed around 10.00am.

Felt very frightened and cried for ages. Suddenly, the fear intensified and I became a tiny baby who’s head was stuck in the exit of his mother’s vagina. The terror was overwhelming and I could feel the familiar choking sensation in my throat and pressure on my chest that I felt yesterday afternoon and during my last breathwork session. Because of the intense feelings my breathing became deeper and more rapid, taking me even further into the experience and soon I was coughing and spitting up gunge, again, the same as I would during a session. Afterwards, slept for a short while then woke up feeling really relieved of something, which was a good way to wake up.

25th Dec, ’96:
At around 9.15am while standing at the range in the kitchen, began to break out into a cold sweat, with my heart pounding and feeling really sick and dizzy. It lasted for about 10-15 minutes, and I’m positive it was one of my dreadful panic attacks.

Again, at around 10.45pm, the very same thing happened, only this time I was in the throes of a hangover.

26th Dec, ’96:
It was around 9.45am when I had another attack, but luckily this one was much less severe and lasted only a couple of minutes.

Weekend Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 16-19/1/1997

I have just completed my third residential week-end.

For some reason this time, it wasn’t very important for me to remember all the participants’ names even though I think they were fewer than usual, perhaps thirty or less.

Sadly, Tony couldn’t be with us, but as usual, we were well taken care of by Michael, Suzanne, Deirdre and Katherine.

Opening Night - 16/1/1997

 Got the 6.30pm bus which broke down three quarters way through the journey. By the time we all boarded the bus behind us it was around 7.20pm. During my long lonely walk in complete darkness there were moments when I feared that I would never reach the house alive. I was never so scared. Suddenly there was a noise from behind a hedge which sounded like someone coughing. I screamed out in terror then began to cry.

Arrived at the house at about 7.45pm where I met Suzanne coming out of the kitchen. I was never so delighted to see a familiar face, and like a distraught child, ran sobbing to be held while recounting my frightening experience. Went into the loo to tidy myself up and there I met Katherine whom I also hugged and told my story to. Now I felt safe.

The large group had just begun the short meditation so I was quite happy to find a cushion to curl up on at the end of the room. During the introductions, I was aware of a lot of familiar faces which was very reassuring, but I was also looking forward to meeting the newcomers. We finished up at 8.50pm, I rang my husband, then joined the others for a tea break. As I knew I would be in Suzanne’s group this week-end, I grabbed the opportunity to have a little chat, as we’d never really had a conversation before.

Those of us who’d done two or more workshops returned to the session room with Michael for the highlight of the evening, a Shamanic journey. I was really looking forward to this experience as I found my first journey, last October, to be truly an amazing voyage of discovery.

About ten minutes into the drumming, I felt like my body was lifting off the mattress and going headlong backwards down a long dark tunnel.

I was terrified as there was nothing for me to grab onto as I was hurtling through the air, completely out of control. Following that, I became a large black cat, snarling aggressively and feeling so full of anger that I wanted to tear apart everything in sight. Almost immediately afterwards I became very sad, crying quietly to myself.

While several people described their fantastic experiences, I chose not to share mine as I was still too upset to talk.

After most people had left I asked Michael if I could talk to him for a while and he very kindly obliged. I described my journey, especially the part where I became a cat and told him about the dream I’d had over twenty years ago where a huge black cat made love to me and spoke English, saying “fuck” quite a lot while driving me wild with his foot-long penis deep inside me. I told him how my mother started me off on sleeping pills when I was only fifteen and how I ended up attending a mental hospital for over five years.

At this point I suddenly realised how much I was missing Tony. I absolutely panicked when I thought that I might not be able to make it through the week-end without him and cried uncontrollably while Michael comforted me with reassuring words. I was so grateful to him because he’d really listened to me.

I headed off to the kitchen at 11.35pm where a lot of people were still chatting and drinking cups of tea.

I stayed up talking ‘till around 1.30am, but then feeling really tired, although much happier in myself, I headed off up to bed.

22nd Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 17/1/1997

Fell asleep around 3.00am. Woke at 5.30am. Dozed ‘till 6.40am. Got up 7.05am.

The first meeting of the three small groups took place in the session room at 9.00am. I missed Tony but looked forward to being in Suzanne’s group. As there were eleven people, I volunteered to go it alone, but Suzanne felt I should have a partner, and as one of the other groups also had an uneven number, Frances, out of Deirdre’s group, was chosen to partner me. Katherine, who was facilitating, was also part of our group.

We finished at 9.45am then got ourselves ready for the first session which started at 10.00am. Both Frances and I decided that I should go first as I was very nervous and just wanted to get it over with.

“Around ten minutes into the breathing I begin yawning and scratching my face. It must be about half an hour later when I begin to remember the feelings associated with being left in hospital by my mother when I was five years old to have my tonsils removed. The anguish is so overwhelming that I begin to cry uncontrollably, my body completely racked from the heart-rending crying.

Now, I have an image of my mother while she herself was in hospital, both during the times when she was reasonably well and shortly before she died. Terrible feelings of guilt surface. I also see her lying there, dead. I’m thrown deeper into my despair, wishing that I too was dead and not having to endure this awful suffering. I need to pee. Frances helps me out to the toilet and when I return I go straight back into the breathing.

A while later I begin to cry again and very soon I’m aware of Katherine lying beside me. She holds me while I continue to sob my heart out. Suddenly, I begin to feel pressure in my lower tummy. She works really hard on it while I scream like Hell into the pain. The discomfort now moves up further into my tummy and begins to feel very much alive. Katherine presses hard to help release it, but I become very nauseous which causes me to gag and spit up into the basin for about twenty minutes. Afterwards I feel a lot better and rest beside Katherine for about an hour. It’s 2.15pm by the time I’m ready to leave”.

After lunch, drew my Mandala of a huge black sadness and a baby trying to come through the birth canal (the latter did not feature in my session).

At 3.45pm we returned to the session room, where Frances had a very powerful experience. Towards the end when Deirdre was working with her, I became very emotional. Sobbed really hard. I was overcome by the wonderful sense of love shown to the breathers by their partners and also deeply moved by the beautiful music. Deirdre hugged me and I cried even more then I lay beside Frances under her duvet and we comforted each other. We left the room at around 7.45pm.

After dinner, which was somewhere around 9.00pm, we returned to the session room with Suzanne for our small group discussion. I comforted Elizabeth for a long time as she was very upset. Finished up at 10.10pm, then went into the kitchen.

Elizabeth, Don and myself got into some very deep discussions and shared quite a lot with each other, bringing us even closer. We talked ‘till 3.30am. After the three of us hugged together, Elizabeth and Don went up to bed (separately!) while I stayed up writing this journal. Eventually, I went to bed at 4.00am.

23rd Holotropic Breathwork Workshop 18/1/1997

Got up 7.40am. After my shower had breakfast. I was absolutely bursting with energy and dancing around the place.

At 9.00am, we all went into the session room for the Naming Ceremony. My angel card was “Forgiveness”. As usual, I chose the names “Ann, Margaret, Ann”. Afterwards, Frances told me that she wanted to breathe in the afternoon as she’d just had her breakfast. The first session of the day began at 9.35am. I was a bit apprehensive about breathing first but felt it was meant to be.

“After the usual ten minutes or so, I begin to yawn and move my head from side to side. Probably around fifteen minutes later, I have this incredible urge to move my body in rhythm to the powerful Indian-type music, and as I do so, I experience moments of total ecstasy, giggling like a young infant. Some of the movements are definitely sensual in their nature, but I’m not aware of feeling any sense of embarrassment, in fact, I allow my body go as far as it wants to, with me moaning and groaning with pleasure. This part of the session seems to last for well over an hour. I’ve already lost my sense of time.

Suddenly, I’m wrenched from my blissful state and thrown headlong into my birth process. Screaming in terror, I begin to push my head as hard as I can against the cushion behind me and as I continue to squirm and yell, I become aware of Katherine’s voice urging me to keep on pushing. I try to keep going but quickly become exhausted, then suddenly out of nowhere comes an incredible anger which gives me the strength to forge ahead.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, I begin to rotate my body while Katherine does an excellent job of simulating a birth canal for me to push through. Eventually I’m out, feeling very vulnerable and sad and needing very much to be comforted.

Seized by an overwhelming terror, my cries become those of a new born baby, terrified by the strange noises and alien surroundings of its new world. In a desperate bid to comfort myself I draw up my left leg as tight as I can around my body, then remain in that position while Katherine cradles me in her arms and makes soothing little noises. I gently rock myself back and forth, also making comforting little sounds to myself. It seems a long time before Katherine eventually leaves me to continue resting on the mattress, all curled up under the warm blanket.

Some time later I begin breathing again. After a while an almighty anger wells up inside me and I start shouting “get out you bastard” over and over until I’m screaming it right up from the depths of my gut.

Suddenly, I’m aware of Suzanne’s voice urging me to keep shouting. I have a desperate need to get rid of something really disgusting in my mouth and put my fingers into it to get it out, making horrible noises as I do so. I realise that this scummy stuff is actually the shite that fucker in the park put down my throat when I was only an eight year old kid.

My screaming is producing lots of mucus at the back of my throat and Suzanne encourages me to spit it up into the basin that Katherine is holding beside me. I feel so filthy and so fucking angry that I want to kill everyone in the room.

Now there is a snake in my belly and it’s wriggling its way up through me. I hate it and want it out. Again, I put my fingers into my mouth in an attempt to pull it up out of me, but the bastard is too far down.

I go over onto my hands and knees and try to gag it up, but I feel so disgusting that I just want to be completely on my own, out of sight of everyone. I’m crying and telling Suzanne about my awful ordeal in the park when I was a child. How that bastard made me hold his prick, then holding my head, forced the fucking thing into my mouth, squirting his venomous filth down my throat. Christ, I’d have to get this shit out of me.

Suzanne offers me some water which I gulp down, then feeling more ashamed than ever, I ask her to tell Frances that I want to be alone. I can’t bear having anyone near me except Suzanne.

The snake in my belly is still trying to slither up my neck and without warning, I’m gripped by an overwhelming urge to puke up this monster. I ask Suzanne if she will take me out to the toilet so that I can be sick with some degree of privacy, as I’m still very conscious of the people around me seeing and hearing my distress. (This is the first time during a session that I confront my fear of people looking at me).

Unsteady on my feet, Suzanne helps me out of the room and into the nearby toilet, where thankfully, no one’s around. What I truly wish is to be alone, but as that’s not possible, I have to tell her that I need to throw up the revolting creature that’s twisting inside me plus all the other shit that was put there against my will.

Again, Suzanne is with me all the way and physically supports me while I ram my fingers down my throat and bring up the little water I’d had earlier on. In between the bouts of violent gagging, I scream and curse with sheer rage at all those responsible for fucking up my entire life. I’m vaguely aware of someone going into the toilet next to me, but I’m in no mood to consider being discreet and continue to retch and cry until, completely exhausted, I finally give up some ten or fifteen minutes later.

Suzanne returns with me to the session room where I curl up on the mattress and allow Frances to cover me up with her duvet. I hug Suzanne and thank her from the bottom of my heart for all her help, then kiss her goodbye as she moves onto another pained soul who’s in desperate need of her love and support.

Lying there in the semi-darkness, I have a sense of having shifted something really huge today, but I’m not quite sure what. I begin to go into a sort of waking dream, with images ranging from pleasant (a small green bush suspended in mid-air with beautiful tiny blue lights dancing all around it; Deirdre standing in the dining room of this great house wearing a fawn coloured duffle coat) to frightening (horrible evil eyes all staring threateningly at me).

I remain resting for about another half hour, aware of the terrible suffering that’s still going on all around me. I feel lucky to be feeling OK now, and after giving Frances a big hug and kiss, I leave at around 1.45pm”.

For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to draw a Mandala, so instead I just sat in the kitchen for a while before having some lunch in the dining room. Around twenty minutes later I returned to the kitchen just for the company. I needed to keep in touch with reality. At around 2.45pm we began preparations for the second session of the day. I was feeling fine.

Frances had an extremely powerful experience, needing me to do a lot of bodywork with her, which I found very fulfilling but also very exhausting. Unlike yesterday, however, I remained in complete control of my emotions right throughout the session, which gave me a great sense of confidence in myself. As Frances wanted to remain alone in the session room, I went off to have my dinner, then returned later to check on Frances, who was by then ready to leave sometime around 7.00pm.

It was close to 9.45pm when we all gathered in the session room for the Cleansing Ceremony. As I still couldn’t bring myself to stand up before everyone, I’d earlier arranged with Suzanne that I would “smudge” my partner at the end of the room. Frances arrived down around 10.00pm and we “smudged” each other as planned. As always, it was a very moving and beautiful occasion.

When that wonderful part of the evening was over, the dancing began. I was fine during the “M People” music, but as soon as they began playing “Sacred Spirit”, I could feel the beginnings of something stirring within me. That, coupled with seeing Katherine move so gracefully, like a magnificent soaring eagle, finally brought about a profound release of all my emotions from the week-end, whereby I completely broke down and just went to absolute pieces. I remained in this state ‘till sometime well after midnight.

Continuation 18/1/1997 - Closing Day 19/1/1997

Still completely overcome with emotion I remained seated on the beanbag in my corner with my head buried in my hands,crying almost as hard as I do during my sessions. During my distress several people,including Katherine and Margaret, came over to comfort me which helped ease the pain a little. It must have been around 12.30am when I finally recovered and began moving my body while still in a sitting position to the beautiful Native American music. Again, as during the October '96 week-end, I was totally alone in the session room 'till sometime near 1.30am. It was just before then that I began to see very frightening images and hear my partner's cries from this afternoon. It absolutely terrified me.

I went off out into the kitchen for a chat and a cup of tea where I engaged in deep conversation 'till 3.10am. After everyone had gone to bed I remained alone for a while just sitting with my thoughts then discovered I needed to use the downstairs loo.

As I headed down the long dark corridor there was the sudden sound of a toilet flushing in the mens' loo and even more terrifying was the noise inside my head which this time sounded like people whispering and giggling. I was out of my mind with fear and ran back towards the kitchen. As I desperately needed to go to the loo I made another attempt to venture down the corridor only this time with the lights on.

I never peed so fast in all my life nor did I ever feel so frightened while doing it. Went to bed 3.30am.

Didn't sleep too well. Got up 7.50am. As the upstairs showers were broken I had to go downstairs which again triggered the awful terror of my earlier experience in the corridor.

At 10.20am we gathered in the session room for the final small group. I was so open I took on board everyone else's pain and cried throughout most of the sharing. When it came to my turn to talk at first I found it very difficult to share with everyone the most intimate details of yesterday's session but eventually I found the courage to discuss the sexual abuse, even if I did deliberately omit some of the more gruesome details. I was very distressed.

A while later I developed the most horrendous stomach cramp which had me doubled up for the remainder of the meeting. I also continued to cry right to the end.

It was well after 2.00pm by the time we were ready for lunch and afterwards we returned to the session room around 3.30pm for the Closing Ceremony. Again, I was aware of Tony's absence.

After I'd said all my goodbyes I briefly told Michael about my couple of disturbing experiences with my snakes. He told me to see it as a very positive healing process. I left with Don at 5.05pm.

Arrived in town at 6.00pm. Got home around 6.45pm. Talked quite a lot to my husband about the week-end. Felt very tired.

After some dinner went to bed around 10.00pm.