You ask if I was dead inside during my holiday? That is a good question. You see, when I am dead, I am not aware of it since I am dead. Yes, sometimes I am. Or I sense it somewhere far behind my armour at certain moments. I was alive on the surface. But not truly alive, not fully.

What I couldn't stop? I couldn't stop the therapy. I still can't, inside. And the experience of this last session prevents me even more now. I was terrified of losing my therapist. I had become so dependant on him that I would burn up in hell and die if I lost him.
You see, after the first 7 years of the therapy we got very close to opening up to this major conflict, very close, and I was confident, afraid, but confident and curious, but then something happened, that I think should not have happened which had a very dangerous consequence. This changed the course into a wrong direction. Gradually I got more and more stuck caught in the dilemma: I can't stop, it is too dangerous - I long for my freedom, I am in need to let go.