Hypnotherapy: Going to a deep and restful place (Don’t mind the ringing telephone and the blaring sirens)

It’s been a while since I ventured to the hypnotherapist.  She missed me, she said.  I think she likes that this whole hypnotherapy thing isn’t working for me, but I persist, so I’m probably her favorite client.  It also probably doesn’t hurt that I’ve already paid in full thanks to a multiple visit deal thanks to Living Social.  If you’ve read my previous posts here and here, you know, it’s been a learning experience.  There’s always something.

This week’s appointment did not disappoint.  *side eye*  Here’s what happened:

After sitting down and “catching up” — which really boils down to whether our last session helped to right wrongs — she remarked, “So, basically, what you’re saying is nothing worked.”  Me: Blink.  Response: “No, not really.  You see me still here, don’t you?”  Her: “Well, alright, let’s see what we can do tonight.”  As I look at her, I know deep inside she’s dancing for joy.  She probably knows there’s a chance I’ll be forking out more funds for another Living Social deal (if she offers it).

She begins with the usual encouragement to relax and proceeds with that unnatural voice that seriously has me thinking this sweet lady is really part of a horns and pitchfork neighborhood.  (I know, I have a wild imagination, but that’s what makes me so endearing.)  Again, my eyes are sealed shut during the séance.  We get into the, “Juuuuuust, reeelaaax, and take a deeep breath…”  We’re going through the motions.  I’m doing the usual:  Thinking about things intermittently that I should not be thinking about.  I am relaxed, but very much conscious and aware of my surroundings.

Then the telephone rings.  (O-oh, she forgets to turn off the telephone in the office.)  And it rings.  And it rings.  And it rings.  And now I’m thinking: “Is she going to pick it up?”  But, no.  And it rings.  And it rings.  Finally, it stops.  Chick never missed a beat.  She’s like an actress during a live performance.  A true professional.  She just goes on like n-o-t-h-i-n-g is happening.

She encourages the relaxation to continue.  She guides me through Utopia.

Then the sirens.  Are you f-ing kidding me right now???  In New York City you block out all the noise. Seriously. Sirens, for example, are always blaring.  However, since I was supposed to be relaxed, I was in a “zone” — seeking Zen and sh*t.  It was apparent the ambulance (I can tell the difference between an ambulance, a fire truck and a police car siren) was stuck behind another automobile because the sound did not move.  The blaring kept going…and going…and going.  Aw, c’mon!  Finally, the sound gets farther and farther away.

What felt like 15 minutes later, the session was over.  She asks: “How do you feel?”  Me:  “Alright.”  She prods with more questions.  I answer.  We then schedule another appointment.  In just over a month, I’ll be back.  She’s looking forward to it.  “See you soon!” she says somewhat cheerily.  (You don’t even want to know what I was thinking at that moment.)

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