The Black Box.

It starts well, I feel that I'm talking to the person, not the role. He tells me his news, I join in. I am interested and sympathetic and ordinary. And I am aware that I'm in another one of the therapy forbidden zones; the place of 'chit chat'.  But it seems OK? And he instigated it? So what goes wrong? He is saying - not dramatically, but directly and uncompromisingly - 'a theme, it's becoming a theme...' He says - "There is one narrative going on with you and quite a different narrative going on in me. Mine is being asked to do things which I'm then not allowed to do. For example last week you asked me to talk about the stuff that's here (my assignment?) but we are always side-tracked" Did I? I didn't ask him? I seriously doubt it... And now I'm panicking!  Because the real problem must be my feelings for him!  They have leaked out?  Is it obvious? IT IS OBVIOUS! He knows... OK, breathe! But under the surface... No! Do not try to

I talk about what happened - I'd been on a trip to Arron. I'd got tickets to see the band that got me through my son's psychosis.  They cancelled.  I looked for my lost daughter.  I couldn't find her. He's asking me , 'what was it like?'  One more Portal map, one more weaving straw into gold, one more challenge that appeared to be impossible.  And I got through with out breaking or crumpling or giving up!. He says - "It's still very present isn't it" I say - "Is it? The memories are clear - present? It is unfinished. But it's me doing the best I can do..." He says - "So why is there a problem now"? What? If I hadn't talked about where I'd been - I'd be talking about the endless writing assignments nightmare that is college! I'm not here to process my expedition to the North. I was only sharing my adventure. In my family the recitation of heroic disasters was a thing!  Regardless I stay with his 

25th July 2021. Notes A day full of physical panic, my body full of crawling spinning electricity.  Not a nice feeling, not nice at all.  Then suddenly I was washed through and through. And the weaving, spinning, churn stopped.  I stood for a precious moment in the still point at the centre of the Sun - and I felt love once more. Mostly the laughing, that we laugh together... And that I am culpable.  It stops the panic.  Stops me waiting for the hammer to fall   Stills my expectation of a coming time, my trial by language. What is my worst fear? More hours, weeks, months of blaming myself for feeling anxiety.  So, more of the same then!  I could tell - when my husband was lying. My anxiety was well founded. Just no information... What do I want to know? Only good and positive things.  I'm beaten up. The greater my need for positive,  the harder it is to accept there can be negative consequences  for honesty...  26th July 2021. Discussion. There is that cough - he tells me not