Some people went out to lunch while the rest of us remained “at home”. We ate, chatted and drew Mandalas. When everyone arrived back, we were all having such a good time that nobody wanted to leave the little room. Lynn came back in for us at 1.45pm.
By the time we returned to the session room, I was beginning to feel a bit apprehensive about the afternoon. I eventually settled down into the relaxation exercise and so was ready to begin my journey:-
“About five minutes into the breathing, I am feeling pins and needles and numbness in my hands, arms and feet. This continues for a further fifteen minutes or so, ‘till I begin the familiar long drawn-out scream, which once again takes me back into my never-ending struggle to free myself from the womb-like prison which refuses to release me, thereby threatening my very existence.
I move from that torment to the feelings of a very young child. I have a fleeting image of a desperately distressed toddler being coaxed out from beneath a table. Whether this is done gently or aggressively, I don’t know. My crying now seems to be internal rather than external, and therefore without tears.
The sadness continues. Once again I return to the struggle which now has me furiously trying to be born. I continue to rotate and push my body down some imaginary passage until, overcome by shear frustration and exhaustion, I abandon the attempt altogether. It is at this point that I sleep for a while, before being gently reminded by Liam to continue my breathing.
For some reason I just don’t want to go back into the session, although I do resume the breathing. Within minutes I’m right back into the distress and isolation. A certain note in the piece of music sends me deep into total despair, and I begin to cry uncontrollably. Somebody covers me with my blanket and I curl up into my protective ball where I continue my heart-rending sobbing. I reject any attempts by Liam to comfort me. Lynn lies beside me and I explain my suffering, but I don’t want reassurance.
Again I slip back into a brief exhausted sleep from which I emerge feeling no better. As I prop myself up against some cushions I can still hear the pain of someone close by. Unable to hold a conversation with Liam, I curl up and rest my head on my knees. I remain in that position for quite some time. Something in the music touches me again and I begin to cry, feeling very much defeated and alone. For some reason I feel unable to face the other people inside so I hang on for another while. Eventually I leave around 5.00pm”.
Back in the small room I sat in a corner and remained virtually silent for the best part of half and hour. The others were enthusiastically discussing controversial topics, some of which I would have liked to join in, were I not still very upset and close to tears.
Sometime later I felt OK to eat and draw my Mandala. This time my image was of a small child sitting beneath a table draped in a dark green tablecloth. I used the colours green and black.
We returned to the session room around 6.00pm. Even in the group situation I found it very difficult to describe my experience. I felt weighed down by a tremendous depression, as if a lot of painful shit had been dredged up during the session but some of it was still waiting to be released. We finished up around 6.45pm.
At home I didn’t talk too much about the day’s events. I wasn’t very hungry, so I just had some soup and a cup of Camomile tea. Sometime around 11.30pm. I felt very sick and exhausted, so I went to bed.
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