My perception was very keen. I seemed to be a lot more aware of the moment. Like the first time there was a flowing of emotions and I started to cry. My friends' presence gave me reassurance and I was able to trust myself to go deeper into my past and speak of painful aspects of my life. I knew that my friends were there to help me and I felt the need to pour out my agony. My emotions were becoming too much to handle, they seemed to be poisoning my veins.

By this time I was too scared to keep going deeper into my past. My friend asked me to keep silent for ten minutes and to think of and feet what was happening to me. It took a long time before I could do this, always fearing that I would simply go mad. When I finally accepted it and did it, I could feel the pain take over my body so that the suffering was physical as well. I was alone in this suffering. I felt that I had to go through it, if I was to accomplish anything. This was an important challenge because after ten minutes of too much pain I was able to trust myself to speak of what was once too painful to remember.

I spoke of a rape that occurred eight years ago. For eight years I have kept the most horrible aspects of that day hidden in the back of my mind, and it was only then that I realized how the little details that I had wanted to ignore were eating at me like a cancer. The memories became very vivid in my mind and the suffering became more intense, but I still wanted to talk about it and I felt that I could deal with the pain, that this was a start to try to defeat the cancer. Adam made it possible for me to speak and to try to see things from a different view.

By talking about it I was able to face the fear of the experience and to understand what it had done to my life. It was frightening to think that I had tried to ignore that day to the point where I didn't know where the pain had come from, nor could I remember what had happened. I had gone through life having nightmares and feeling guilty, telling myself that it was not normal to be affected by something that has occurred such a long time ago.

The most destructive feeling that resulted from the rape was a feeling of inner emptiness: I didn't feel love or hate for the people who had hurt me; I didn't feel anything toward myself and even less for life itself. (This is the reason why I don't like anti-depressant drugs: they make me feel the same way.) I continued living because I didn't even care enough to kill myself. I remember crossing the street and thinking, "If a car hits me, fine, and if it doesn't, that's fine, too." It's much worse to not feel anything even than to feel something sad.

So my emotions caught up with me, and I was closer to death than I'd ever been before.

Adam has helped me look at this suffering, to see my life as a whole and to understand it better. It has given me the courage to face the fears instead of ignoring them to know that the most important thing is to struggle to trust myself. I don't know what my life will be like now, or how much I want to live, but I do know that the experiences I have gone through, even though painful, have also been full of tenderness and trust, and there is no longer this feeling of emptiness. I am not leaving a hospital with a prescription in my hand for anti-depressants. Rather, I'm leaving with a friend, with the hope that I see him again, and with the courage to try to face my fears and to face life.

It has been the vision of so many deaths, during the LSD portion of this experience, that is helping me to live now.

About two hours after taking the LSD, my friend asked me whether I wanted to take Adam. At this point I would have tried anything, and I thought that the Adam would help me cope with this pain, so I said yes. It didn't ease the pain but it helped to open up the emotions that were bottled up inside. Once I opened to my memory of the past, the room seemed to fill up with people from my past who had hurt me, and with people who had tried to help me. My friend's eyes seemed to be calling out to me, but then all of a sudden he changed and became transformed into the rapist. His toes and legs were those of the rapist but I knew that the figure was my friend. It was horrifying to see him as the man who had caused me so much pain. The only reason I could deal with it was because my friend was so strong in being himself that even though his body seemed to be that of the rapist, the rapist could not take over his mind, and I could turn to him for support.

I started to feel the horror of that day and I started vomiting. Getting sick was more than just a physical illness. I was vomiting from my soul, getting rid of pain, of an evil that had been destroying me. I felt then the need to tell my friend what the rapist had done to me, having always kept it to myself because I thought that by not speaking about it that eventually it would be erased from reality, and that all of it would become a horrible &earn, a part of my imagination.

I felt that it was too late to pretend that it hadn't been real, and I feared that my friend would hate me. I don't know why, maybe it was that I hated my own body, it being a reminder of evil and corruption. But he didn't feel disgust towards my body, he didn't see it as changed by the experience. I then tried to see my body through his eyes, to understand that it was not impure, that it didn't have to be a reminder of cruelty.

I felt that I was becoming stronger with my friend's help. The rapist was grabbing me inside and wouldn't let go. I wanted to vomit so badly , feeling that if I did I could be rid of the rapist -- at least he would be outside and no longer a part of me.

Later I felt I had got rid of so much, but I still felt nauseous, there was still a burning lump in my stomach. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get it out. It seemed to be the only part of the rapist that remained. Maybe it will always be there and I will have to learn to live with it. But it doesn't have to dominate my life.

My physical discomfort interfered with the peaceful movements that were also a part of this experience. They seemed trivial compared with the pain, but now I hold them close to me and they help me cope.

I felt that it was so painful to love that knowing that I could still love was what caused most of my suffering. But the emptiness and pain of not loving was so much greater -- without love we cannot experience the beauty of living. I felt that I had to hold on to the love instead of fighting it, and that I had to try to deal with the pain that it caused me, because facing it is better than the emptiness.

It seems hard to do, but perhaps there is a chance that I can fill the emptiness with new life. It scares me and I feel very lonely. But this experience has made me realize that death is not necessarily the right answer, or the most peaceful alternative. Realizing this has given me the courage to at least try to find meaning and reason.

Next Story: The Chooser Becomes the Chosen

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