Alison Hunter is a Primal Integration and Regression therapist who
works from a private residence at 28, Beach Court, Kiliiney, Co.
I arrived at the above address half an hour late, due to a
mix up with buses on a spring morning in 1996, for my first Primal
Once I'd recovered my breath, I was shown into the "session" room
by Elaine, Alison's assistant, and was introduced to the other three
participants. They were, Clare, Catherine (who was French) and
Brian. I was made feel very welcome by everyone which helped to
ease my anxiety somewhat. The reason I was so nervous was
because I knew this work would be totally different from the
Holotropic sessions I was already accustomed to, in that, deep
breathing is not used as an aid to induce a regressed state.
I'd been told, that each person in turn, has between one and one and
a half hours on the mattress, with the other three participants just
observing or assisting Alison and Elaine, if necessary.
At 11.10am things got underway, with Clare being the first to take
the floor. Her session was very painful for her and I found myself
becoming very emotional from time to time. She finished at
12.00pm. We had lunch and just before we returned to the session room, Catherine
and I got pennission from Alison to visit and play with the
absolutely gorgeous, loveable and elegant Siamese cats who
apparently lived very pampered lives in an upstairs sort-of-kitty-
Brian opted to go next with his session which lasted two hours. He
needed a lot of assistance, so we all helped out, with instructions
coming fast and furious from Alison. After a break,
Catherine went next. She also had very sad moments
during which she spoke in her native tongue (French). Distressing
as it was, the dialogue still sounded beautiful. Her session ended and we had a short break.
Now it was my turn. Having just witnessed so much pain, I think I
had, without realising it, entered the right frame of mind for my own
session. I lay down on the mattress with Alison sitting up at my
head and Elaine kneeling down towards my feet. I felt very self-conscious and would have done a runner given half the chance.
"Alison begins by asking me if I would like to take her hand, an
invitation I immediately accept. She then asks me to go back to my
conception and this is where I begin to feel that this isn't going to
I try desperately to imagine my earliest moment of existence,
which at first seems almost comically impossible, but as Alison begins to talk me
through it, recounting the sperms penetration of the egg and the
subsequent dividing of the cells, a terrible sense of sadness begins
to emerge, for I know this event should not be taking place as I was
never meant to be.
It's the mystery surrounding the circumstance of my conception
which scares me the most. When my mother became pregnant with
me, she was forty one, single, and taking care of her own invalid
mother. So, was I the result of a long standing loving relationship
or the innocent victim born out of an horrific rape? I'll probably
Now I'm embedded in my mother's womb. Several weeks have
passed and she realises she is pregnant. Alison tries to have me
imaging my mother's feelings towards me at this stage. Is she
happy at the prospect of becoming a mother at forty one, or is she
really resenting me?
The feelings which come are not just imagined ones. They are
coming from somewhere very deep within me so I've no control
over them whatsoever. I'm aware she doesn't hate me, but nor
does she love me. As I'm relaying these memories, or whatever
they are, to Alison, I'm overwhelmed by a huge sadness, which on a
physical level, is equivalent to having a knife twisted in your guts.
My sobbing is heart rending, though I'm too submerged in my
anguish to be aware if I'm upsetting the others.
I'm several months old now and according to Alison, probably
causing my mother a great deal more mental suffering than physical
discomfort. All I'm aware of is a terrible sense of not been loved,
which sends me deeper into my despair. This is the feeling I've
carried through life and is probably the root cause of all my anger,
depression and self hatred.
It's almost time to be born now. This is where Alison, Elaine and
everybody else begin to work on me. Hands guide me as I struggle to propel myself down my mother's birth canal, anger and frustration dominating the process. While all of this is going on, I'm aware that Alison and Elaine are also
verbally guiding me, which initially intensifies the experience, but
later has the effect of triggering further episodes of intense rage.
As my body makes its final decent towards freedom, I become
exhausted, wishing only to he left in peace to rest. Sadly, there's
no respite as Alison, assuming the role of obstetrician, announces
that I will have to be a forceps delivery. As she places her hands
firmly across my head, I feel a pulling sensation, followed by a
tremendous pressure on my forehead, which again sends me into a
I'm almost there now. With a little more verbal encouragement and
my own desperate need to break free, I finally push through and
arrive into this world, a screaming, terrified infant.
Pain fills my body as I lie curled up on the mattress, yelling my guts
out and feeling so sad. The deep sense of isolation is so
overwhelming, I feel nothing will ever comfort me, and so it is, I
remain sobbing for around twenty minutes, agonising over my
violent entry into the world, but above all, feeling the total despair
of being. Eventually I recover enough to become part of the group
again. It is 4.45pm."
Catherine very kindly made me a cup of Camomile tea, which
helped ease the pain in my gut, no doubt caused by my emotional
distress. After everyone had made their follow-up appointments
with Alison, we were ready to leave at 5.30pm. As Brian lived
fairly close to me, I gratefully accepted his offer of a lift home.
Although feeling very fragile, I actually managed to discuss a
variety of topics during the journey, which for me, was a major
accomplishment. I arrived home at 6.15pm.
While watching television with Dave, I felt a strong need to
repeatedly go over the day's events. What amazed me most, was
how I entered an altered state of consciousness without the aid of
breathing and music. Later, exhausted, though still somewhat
ecstatic, I had another Camomile tea, then went to bed around