Therapy 10-1

First of the month. I'm on the train with a slight tension in the lower left of my occiput. Doc pressed over my left eyebrow, and...I heard panic in the shouts coming from my mouth. It was instant. 

Mostly I did not talk. I told the Doc I was tired of talking. He said that was OK, and just sat there, and let me be silent.  

Thank you. 

We humans are funny creatures. Funny, and strange. Oftentimes lately I am starting to wonder what the hell I'm doing here. Not in therapy. On this madhouse we call home. Earth. 

Back to the session, after the shouts, I kept my eyes closed. Whatever it is, I don't want to see it. The air felt strange, thickly charged somehow, like an overbearing weight was leaning on me, blanketing me. Doc was close, yet he also felt far. Some negative transference was spoken, by me of course. Tomorrows' another day.

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