what he was sure had been an argument.
'If I were to make an observation.' Nikki began. 'It would be that equipment can be replaced, the lab rebuilt, your research can be continued. You are only here for a relatively short time and you didn't die, in fact you have hardly a scratch on you. So, what is it you are really angry about?'
John almost jumped out of his chair having such a traumatic event dismissed so casually. He clenched his fists, pushing down on his legs so he couldn't rise out of his chair. He finally responded, his voice heavy with an undercurrent of menace.
'What I am angry about is that I don't know why it exploded.' He could barely control himself; small muscles in his neck and face twitched.
Nikki looked at John again and opened her mouth ready to speak.
'Thank you John.’
She turned to the person to John's right and addressed her.
'Julie, how do you feel?'
John decided that as he couldn't trust himself not to get angry and upset he would “sit out” the rest of the session by just listening and observing. He knew that Nikki was right, that his equipment was being replaced, his lab rebuilt and his experiments would continue, and that he needed to get well. Something else intrigued him, the discovery of his anger at not knowing why the experiment blew up.
He decided to throw that thought over the wall in his mind between his conscious and his subconscious. This was something he often did, knowing that his subconscious would come up with the answer in due course and would inform his conscious mind. Right now, he needed to listen as Jane was speaking.
'I guess it's the same for me. It started after my first divorce. Thomas, he was my first husband, never wanted me to be anything other than a mother. He didn't even really want nor need a wife. We had a cook, a nanny, a cleaner, and a gardener. There wasn't much for me to do. He wanted me to give up my job. I'm a journalist. I almost did too. When I left him, he genuinely couldn't understand why. In his mind, I had everything. In truth, the only thing I had in my life that was truly mine was my career. I didn't even have any friends left outside of my job and the few that I did have I could only see in work. Therefore, when I left, I got my own place, saw my daughter every other weekend as she was at boarding school and then really let my hair down. I dated almost continuously for six or seven months, every night was a bottle of wine or more. Then when I calmed down on the dating, I was still drinking every night; I started dating my second husband Graham less than a year after leaving Thomas. We married as soon as my divorce came through. My drinking, I realise now, was not an issue as he was drinking too. It became less social after my divorce from Graham, I wasn't fussy with whom I drank anymore, spent a lot of time with the graduates. We would hit the bars and clubs after work. Then things escalated last year after I was shot on assignment. It was nothing really; I've seen people die right in front of me, even had my cameraman killed the year before. After that, I couldn't face the morning or work without a drink, and it wasn't wine anymore. It had to be vodka so my breath wouldn't smell and I could keep it in my water bottle.'
Several people had been nodding listening to Jane. Alcoholics tending to have similar stories in that they are quite ordinary people, badly affected by situations and events; some people eat, some gamble, some go to the gym, others drink. Jane was a drinker.
13:50 14 October [13:50 14 October GMT]
The Smoking Hut, The Branchflower Clinic, Cambridge, England.
John walked Jane out to the hut after lunch. Placing his hand on her right shoulder, he gave her a reassuring squeeze as he guided her. Jane couldn't find the right words to express how she felt, the closeness she
'If I were to make an observation.' Nikki began. 'It would be that equipment can be replaced, the lab rebuilt, your research can be continued. You are only here for a relatively short time and you didn't die, in fact you have hardly a scratch on you. So, what is it you are really angry about?'
John almost jumped out of his chair having such a traumatic event dismissed so casually. He clenched his fists, pushing down on his legs so he couldn't rise out of his chair. He finally responded, his voice heavy with an undercurrent of menace.
'What I am angry about is that I don't know why it exploded.' He could barely control himself; small muscles in his neck and face twitched.
Nikki looked at John again and opened her mouth ready to speak.
'Thank you John.’
She turned to the person to John's right and addressed her.
'Julie, how do you feel?'
John decided that as he couldn't trust himself not to get angry and upset he would “sit out” the rest of the session by just listening and observing. He knew that Nikki was right, that his equipment was being replaced, his lab rebuilt and his experiments would continue, and that he needed to get well. Something else intrigued him, the discovery of his anger at not knowing why the experiment blew up.
He decided to throw that thought over the wall in his mind between his conscious and his subconscious. This was something he often did, knowing that his subconscious would come up with the answer in due course and would inform his conscious mind. Right now, he needed to listen as Jane was speaking.
'I guess it's the same for me. It started after my first divorce. Thomas, he was my first husband, never wanted me to be anything other than a mother. He didn't even really want nor need a wife. We had a cook, a nanny, a cleaner, and a gardener. There wasn't much for me to do. He wanted me to give up my job. I'm a journalist. I almost did too. When I left him, he genuinely couldn't understand why. In his mind, I had everything. In truth, the only thing I had in my life that was truly mine was my career. I didn't even have any friends left outside of my job and the few that I did have I could only see in work. Therefore, when I left, I got my own place, saw my daughter every other weekend as she was at boarding school and then really let my hair down. I dated almost continuously for six or seven months, every night was a bottle of wine or more. Then when I calmed down on the dating, I was still drinking every night; I started dating my second husband Graham less than a year after leaving Thomas. We married as soon as my divorce came through. My drinking, I realise now, was not an issue as he was drinking too. It became less social after my divorce from Graham, I wasn't fussy with whom I drank anymore, spent a lot of time with the graduates. We would hit the bars and clubs after work. Then things escalated last year after I was shot on assignment. It was nothing really; I've seen people die right in front of me, even had my cameraman killed the year before. After that, I couldn't face the morning or work without a drink, and it wasn't wine anymore. It had to be vodka so my breath wouldn't smell and I could keep it in my water bottle.'
Several people had been nodding listening to Jane. Alcoholics tending to have similar stories in that they are quite ordinary people, badly affected by situations and events; some people eat, some gamble, some go to the gym, others drink. Jane was a drinker.
13:50 14 October [13:50 14 October GMT]
The Smoking Hut, The Branchflower Clinic, Cambridge, England.
John walked Jane out to the hut after lunch. Placing his hand on her right shoulder, he gave her a reassuring squeeze as he guided her. Jane couldn't find the right words to express how she felt, the closeness she
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