The Corona Borealis.

 Autumn Equinox 2024. As the sun dips below the equator and we begin the journey into darkness, it is time for me to slip out of any light I may have cast through writing these transcripts and my commentary. Time to add the final entry, and close this blog. [+] This blog begins on Glastonbury Tor.  High up - you can see for miles! It is understood as a magical place, the meeting point of many energy lines and forces. Many people come to stand there together.  No one single belief system rules, it is free and open to all.  Welcome! When I wrote the first post of this blog  [+]   I was in recovery from the therapy I'd received. Let me say that again, after therapy ended - I was in a bad way - because of therapy.  I felt powerless, and silenced.  Again. During the gaslighting [+]  that ended just two months before I started therapy, I had needed to ignore all and any thoughts or feelings that contradicted my husband's version of reality. If I allowed myself to take my thoughts and

He - "So, what's for today then"? Me - "Oh, offering the scarf!" A rush of pain washes over me as I begin to write. This is  t he last session.   Then and now, I was really aware that I wanted to leave having done it right.   My integrity is rooted in one statement:  love is worth dying for. Perhaps it is the only thing... I had chosen not to run.  I had trusted that Kit would stop treating self-disclosure as dangerous. He didn't.  Instead he lectured me about avoidance, whilst he avoided any reply to my questions. He ignored the power-dynamic he had created, and failed to understand that it would be maintained by his  absence. I left his room feeling worthless...disempowered, suicidal.  I'd set my coordinates straight for the heart of the storm; my role is to work with the people who get medicated unless we find a way to turn self-attack and justified rage, fear, hallucinations and paranoia into a narrative to be

He - "So, do we have part 4?" Me -  "We do!" Part 4. Above clouds, between the void of space, above the pull of earth. I am drowsy between reality and anxiety.  At times like this when I have sought the glittering edge, I’ve longed for a simple way in; the perfect drug, the perfect word, the instant translocation .... Again, I've not posted the rest here.   He - "When you are writing this, is it a stream of consciousness or.." Me - "It's a putting together of the things I think" He - "And does anything change at the end of this, do you go through the process of writing it then some new connection is made, or the satisfaction of clarity, or or what"? Me - "I enjoy writing it. Um, what's the question - what changes because I write"? He - "Or does anything change"?   Me -  "Does anything change because I write. Everything changes, but does anything change because I write. This is like you are ta

We begin by talking about the 23rd of May 2022. This will be the date of my last session, because it is when my course finishes. And this date is significant. Two years before, on the 23rd of May 2020 - my husband set in motion the resonance cascade that shattered our family.  So what are the chances of this being a good date to finish! My only hope, during this session was that I'd be able to contain my feelings; I felt there to be no way out and no way forward. I'd asked him to tell me how he felt in the mp3, and again in the 14th February session, possibly other times.  I'd said that this is how I get closure.  It never happened.  Instead he diagnosed my recording as transgression - this justified, in his mind, his abuse of power .  You can read the transcript!  Or perhaps I should just upload? At the time of this session I couldn't take more instances of my feelings being dismissed, or described as crossing boundaries . H e was reacting as if my honesty opened a d