Breakingdown, Breakingthrough

- by Margaret Coyne -

10th Holotronic Breathwork Workshop - 10-2-'96.

Arrived at the Centre at 8.50am. There were twelve of us this week-end, including myself.

The first session got going around 9.50am. David chose me as his partner and we decided he would "breathe" first. His experience was a relatively quiet one, though he did need some body work on his arms towards the end of the session. We finally left around 1.30pm.

After lunch we started back at 2.15pm. I wasn't particularly looking forward to my session as I feared it might all revolve around my mother's recent death. As usual we did our relaxation exercises which helped me to forget my worries and so allow me prepare for my journey.

"After about five minutes of breathing, I'm aware of tingling sensations in my body. Some time later it feels as though something is being inserted down my throat which I vigorously resist with a lot of coughing and gagging. This discomfort continues for quite some time, with me struggling to breathe while choking on the object being forced down into my gut.

Following my desperate attempt to escape complete suffocation, I begin to sense the familiar presence of someone standing over me, lashing out at my body with a stick or strap of some kind. In intense pain I cry out to them to "please stop", then in anger I scream "fuck you" several times. This goes on for a long time until finally worn out, I begin to cry uncontrollably.

I've lost all sense of time and eventually, exhausted from my suffering, I curl up on the mattress and cry quietly to myself. I'm now aware of a tremendous tension in the left side of my upper gut, which I know will have to be released sooner or later. I close my eyes and drift peacefully into a light sleep.

When I awake Lynn is lying beside me and when she inquires how I'm feeling, I'm able to tell her about the discomfort in my gut. She gets me to turn onto my back and begins to apply gentle pressure on my tummy while I do some deep rapid breathing. Almost immediately there is a huge build up of energy which causes me to scream my lungs out. With encouragement from Lynn I keep this going, then abruptly turn over onto my tummy with her hand still in place.

In this position, I begin to cough and gag violently bringing up copious amounts of mucous, which does not seem anything near enough to rid me of the shit which has, during the course of a lifetime, remained festering inside me. I want to puke up all the anger and sadness that has fucked up my entire life, all the pain (mental and physical) inflicted by my parents, and all the hurtful remarks passed by all those cruel bastards who took advantage of me because I was never able to stand up for myself and say "STOP".

I think it is David who hands me the tissues while I continue to spit out my pain, and I have a feeling now that I will die if this doesn't soon stop. What seems an eternity later, l finally come out of my agonising despair needing to sit upright. As the realisation of what I've just been doing begins to sink in, I start to shake uncontrollably from head to toe.

Lynn remains with me, pressing her hand against my feet to help calm me down. When the shaking eventually subsides, I wrap my arms around her neck as tight as I can, and rock myself really hard for ages. I then tell her that I've coughed up almost a lifetime of pain and anger and that perhaps there is a connection between that and my compulsion to be sick after I've stuffed myself with food. She is such a good listener. I'm ready to leave at 5.55pm".

During the break I drew my Mandala which depicted a young infant surrounded by four people, one of whom is inserting a tube- like object down a baby's throat.

This image is also surrounded by four red markings of anger. We returned to the session room at 6.30pm. I admired and envied the openness of the other participants and was painfully aware of my own inability to share deeply with them. For some reason I felt frightened and needed to seek comfort deep within myself. We finished up at 7.30pm. Got home around 8.30pm. I wasn't too talkative with anybody so I stayed out in the kitchen for a lot of the time.

At around 11.00pm. got a violent bout of nausea which totally immobilised me for a while. When I recovered I tried to organise myself for bed but was too depressed to do anything. Cried really hard for about fifteen minutes, then eventually went to bed somewhere around 1.00am.

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