I realised that I haven’t been posting anything at all. It kinda goes against the motto of this blog, which is to post whatever comes into my mind without protest or planning, really.
And best if it’s in one go. So here’s something:
In one of my latest sessions I was told that I had a “black room” inside myself. This was after I had described to her when I had lived in the basement as a child, with my parents. It was damp. The conditions weren’t that great. There was an evil Hong Kong person who was in charge, good with the British owners, who seemed to make our lives miserable but whom my dad had to answer to anyway. I digress.
Anyway I have apparently internalised this place inside of myself, even though I’m no longer 7-11 (I moved out when I was 11 with my mum to a much posher, 4th floor flat smack in the central district of London (I kind-of miss it).
So what is the black room and how does it affect myself and my personality today?