There came a therapy session near the end where I was talking about these things: dark things, sorrowful things, ugly things too. In the midst of it all, I began to laugh. I couldn’t stop myself. I laughed and laughed, twisted and doubled over in the patient’s chair, clutching my belly with one hand, wiping my eyes with the other. It wasn’t hysterical laughter. It wasn’t tragic laughter either. It wasn’t even happy laughter really. It was just laughter, pure laughter, pure hilarity, pure mirth. Something—no, everything—struck me as funny. Really funny. Funny at its core, in its very nature: my
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Reminiscent of the charismatic "Holy Laughter" episodes.
