"Well, um. How exactly is that going to work? Ask me questions, or how? Honestly, I have no idea how you want to do it with the reminder." John leans back, relaxed. “The 'you' is giving you a lot of trouble, isn't it?” Why does he sound so amused? That's totally inappropriate, I mean, I asked him something and he's making fun of me.
"Yes. So what happens now?" I urge him.
A smile steals on his face, that upsets me! It was a stupid idea to come here! It was a stupid idea to call! It was a stupid idea to listen to a pharmacist!
“I'm going to hypnotize you and penetrate your subconscious.” Okay, good. Wait a minute, hypnosis? I'm supposed to let anyone in my head No! Besides, isn't that dangerous? What if I don't wake up anymore?
"Don't worry, I've learned that so it's not dangerous. You don't have to worry about that."
Another reason I don't like psychiatrists is that they can read minds. "But it can only work if you show me trust and not fear. I promise you that nothing will happen to you. Understand?"
Trust him? It's so easy to say. Admittedly, I don't trust you that much, but you can't just expect someone to trust you just because you tell them to. That is not possible.
But I don't want to have come here for nothing. "Yeah, okay. Can we get started? I want to get this over with quickly." I mumble. John's brow furrows and his eyes look at me with surprising seriousness.
"Eva, you have to realize that it doesn't happen quickly. Something like that takes time, you have to want it. That's why I gave you the choice. Because if the patient does not support the therapy or does not believe in success, the attempt will fail fail. "
How am I supposed to believe in it? "Let yourself go, will you? Then it'll be easier.", He advises me. “John, are there, well, are there any side effects?” The first visit to him finally resulted in a nightmare, right now I don't need it. He'd better tell me right away.
"Side effects? What do you mean?" He looks a little irritated. But if I'm to explain it to him, I have to admit that I had a nightmare. “Surely it will do something to my psyche when I'm on the trail of my memories, won't it?” Did he see through it? John doesn't say anything, but he seems to guess what I'm really talking about.
"Well, I'm not going to put you into a trance right away, first of all I'll ask you a few questions about your family."
Ask? Well, that's what I feared, hopefully they're not too private. Apparently, once again, he has guessed my thoughts, because he is trying to calm me down: "Don't worry, we start very easily. Even in the first hypnosis, we won't do everything right away. The sessions will work bit by bit. And if you change your mind at some point, you can stop at any time. "
He looks at me urgently and I nod, still a little insecure.“So,” John leans back more loosely, “how were your parents like?” What were they like? No idea. What does he mean, I don't know what to say.
"Mh, well, I was still young, I didn't really pay attention to something like that." He smiles slightly. "It's okay, just say what you can remember."
I close my eyes for a moment, what is the event that I can remember most? "My mother was often with me on the playground around here. Even when I was older, until shortly before her death. I remember I was totally in love with this climbing frame." At the thought of my devotion to the thing I have to giggle softly. Too silly. "Back then it felt huge to me, now I know better, but in my memory it is still so big and phenomenal."
After a short break in which John has made a little note, he continues to dig. "And your father? Was he there?"
I slowly shake my head. "No, he had to work until the evening, so he had hardly any time in the afternoon. Sometimes I didn't see him all day when he came home later and I had to sleep." I remember that I used to be very sad about it and sometimes secretly tried to stay awake to meet him.
“What did he work as?” Why does he want to know? "To be honest, I'm not so sure about that, as I said I was a child and that didn't really interest me. He traded something, I can look at the documents at home." John nods again and I wonder what he is aiming for with these questions.
“Why do you want to know?” To my indignation, I cannot hold the distrust out of my voice. Apart from the fact that I switched to you again.
“It's a little too much to ask for trust now, isn't it?” Fortunately, John doesn't seem angry. “I want to know, because the more precise living conditions might bring some light into the dark, uncover possible connections, or bring about a memory.” Yes, that sounds understandable, but my headaches are gradually creeping up again.
"What's the last thing you can remember with your parents?"
This time I have to think twice. Many things occur to me, but I don't know when exactly they took place, and so fail because of the correct order. Somewhat perplexed, I give the psychiatrist a look that seems to show him exactly my problem again.
"First something else, did anything change before they died? Was one of the two sick or something like that? Maybe we can find out in this way whether they died due to illness or perhaps as a result of an accident," he explains to me.
Yes, that would be helpful, for reasons of age it can't be, after all, they weren't old enough for something like that.
“I can't remember either of them being sick.” I pause for a moment. "Although, my mother once swallowed a pill, but that doesn't mean anything.", Occurs to me.After all, I also take pills, there's nothing to it.
John seems to see it differently, but does not contradict me, but makes another note. If I only knew what he's writing down.
"Good. That's enough for now, I think. Should we try simple hypnosis now to get you used to it?" I thought we want to take it slow? "Just to test how you react to it," he adds quickly.
Reluctantly I agree, I still don't really have an idea of ​​what to expect.
"There are different ways to put someone or yourself into a trance," begins the psychiatrist. "We will see which is the most effective for you. The most common methods are eye fixation, regular rhythms, smells, but sometimes also medication. We will use eye fixation."
He gets up briefly to get something out of his closet. I use the breather to take a deep breath. When he lets himself fall back into the chair, he becomes more precise: "Actually, we are trying the 'eye-counting method'. Here." He holds out a card in two different colors to me. Sun yellow and purple, I think that meant complementary colors.
"You fix this card with your eyes, so the eye muscles tire, which simplifies the transition into the trance, just like the two colors. Then I will count backwards from a hundred, and you close your eyes at every even number."
John gives me a scrutinizing look. “Got it.” I confirm this and try to prepare myself mentally for the coming one. Unsuccessful.
If a pharmacist ever asks me something, I will loudly refuse and never come back. You can see what is happening.
I quickly turn my attention to the card, then John starts counting down. As I am used to, everything outside of the edges of the card blurs once I fix my eyes on it and soon I don't have to think about when to close my eyes and when to open them.
Everything goes by itself and I can feel my body relax without any action on my part. A strange feeling and yet pleasant. Slowly my thoughts slow down and something envelops my consciousness like a wall of cotton wool.
"... 2 ... 1"
With staring eyes I look down at the map, everything is frozen, nothing seems to stir in me. "Eva, think about it. Do you remember your dearest memories with your parents?" I almost overhear John's words in the booming silence that seems to be deafening again in my ears.
But suddenly I no longer see the yellow-violet pattern in front of me, but an image that seems vaguely familiar to me.
"What do you see? Tell me what you see, Eva." Without having to give an order, my lips form the words as if by themselves:
"I'm in the playground, the sun is going to set soon, and my parents want to go home. For once, Dad is there too. But I don't want to go yet, I point to the swing. The playground is completely deserted. Mom allows me to Papa gives me momentum.It is wonderful. We're going home after they buy me an ice cream. "
The picture ends abruptly and I am back in the unyielding silence.
"And now I'll count from 1 to 5 and you'll come back to you. 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5."
My field of vision clears up, but I need a moment to orient myself. "Yes, that was nice.", I mumble in front of me, still slightly absent. It seems to me as if I have seen everything again. All the sensations from back then are tangible again, I think I can even feel the last rays of the setting sun on my skin, taste the ice cream on my tongue.
Overwhelmed by this information, I only notice the essentials later. "My headache is gone."