THU JUL 24

Nat has recovered his poise a little after my sudden declaration that the usefulness of our meetings had come to an end. He has even taken action and signed on the dole! This was against his principles, he insisted, but he has done it in order to “have more money for the band”. Perhaps I should threaten the boy more often!

Nat goes almost every evening now to see Greg. They rehearse new material and practice their earlier efforts. Apparently Nat went to many punk concerts in his early teens and understands the subculture well. He is adamant that he went along as an “observer of degenerates”—he never actually spoke to anyone. Greg is educating him with regard to recent developments, or regressions in the genre. They rarely go out for the evening, but instead listen incessantly to Greg’s comprehensive collection of punk records. They also study “fanzines”, the literature of the subcult. Greg wants a spikey-haired singer in the band, but Nat resists this. His hair is becoming long again and he insists that his material should be sung only by himself. I must admit to being a little apprehensive about Nat’s band ever playing before an audience, mode of dress and style being the essential qualifications for entry into any tribe.

I asked Nat if he objected to me writing up his case for the medical journals. Her seemed quite excited. I told him Blitzein had suggested it, because not much has been written about primal therapy in Britain, and cultural differences may result in nuances from country to country. Nat was quite happy for me to write about him. I explained that I would naturally change all the relevant names and locations, i.e. the wood etc. I also gave him my permission to document the events should he ever feel compelled to do so. I gained the impression that he would like to read my papers but I do not think that this would be beneficial.

MON JUL 28

Nat has been complaining about a vivid fear of Oval Wood, and a railway bridge which he has to go under at night when returning home from Greg’s. Actually I think it is “photophobia”, or rather a love of fear which is the matter with Nat. Last night I took him to these places in my car and he pointed out the “fearful shadows” and “odd shapes” that so terrify him beneath the railway bridge. I could see nothing scary and advised him to go up to the shadows and convince himself of their benignity, as he had done previously with the objects that horrified him at night in his bedroom. This eased his fear but he complained that he still felt panic. I said that he would probably never dispel this fear entirely, but that he is certainly capable of keeping it at a tolerable level.