The session, hypno and 90 min drive listening to classical music brought me back to calm.

Hypno was a spontaneous image of Ma beside the chair I was sitting on. Physically, she was a distorted 3/4's dead creature again, lying on the floor. This time she had a fearful, needy look in her eyes, and one I don’t recall seeing before. I kept repeating," No more."

I read her look as a fear of losing what she had always taken from me. My infantile need of her was hers to take. It made her feel needed.

I began to feel uncomfortable, nauseated, and repulsed by the closeness of that need. I shuffled my body over to the other side of the chair in an attempt to distance myself from it. I felt the rage build up in my head, and gut.

I remembered seeing the same look in my fathers eyes when I was a toddler. Both parents needed to take, and depend on their youngest child's need. And both denied my need to be loved. They were incapable of that love as were their parents. Why should they give it to me, especially since I was a female just like their mother? Age matters not!

I used fire to dispose of her, and rubbed the ashes from my hands.

There was no need to rescue the infant this time. She sat calmly in the chair with a sense of accomplishment.

We talked about the similarities between my need to vent rage and that of a serial killers. The need to rid Ma from the head is the same.

.