Following some difficulty with my mental health in February, I decided to reach out to a hypnotherapist. It was mostly out of desperation, but it’s something I had been wanting to try for many years. I was nervous beforehand because I had no idea what to expect. I had read about the treatment’s effectiveness over and over again, but I still had my doubts. I was open to it, but didn’t understand how it could be real. It seemed like magic. I was also worried that I wouldn’t be able to be hypnotised because some people aren’t susceptible to it. And I thought I’d be one of them. After four sessions, I called it quits—but not for the reasons you might think. Here’s what happened.
John1 demonstrated right away that he was a skilled hypnotherapist. He explained it in a way that was utterly fascinating. He boasted further knowledge around mental health, including the mind-body connection, and had treated various problems, including stress and anxiety, depression and chronic pain, and even PTSD. A former veteran himself, John even said that he offers free sessions to war vets with PTSD because it’s a cause close to his heart. I found this rather moving. He stressed that he doesn’t do this for the money. His mortgage is paid off, for example. He went on to gift me all of my sessions, paid for by some anonymous celebrity who had some unused bulk-bought sessions. I thanked him for his generosity multiple times and felt lucky to have the opportunity to try this for free.
Right away, John did an exercise with me which involved asking me a few questions. It didn’t matter what my answers were or if I could come up with one at all. He was interested in my eye movements as I tried to recall memories, which told him that I was trying to access emotional experience rather than visual recall. He asked if I’d heard of aphantasia (the inability to form visual mental images) and I had. I explained that I can see images in my head but it’s hard to do so on demand and I definitely don’t see images as clear or as detailed as a photograph. This allowed him to tailor hypnotherapy for me so we didn’t have to rely on visualisation. I found this incredibly reassuring because my difficulty with this was something I was really concerned about, and not many people know to adapt for it. He later told me that I’m a “kinaesthetic person with a bit of auditory,” which I found interesting.
We spent some time discussing my problems. In a nutshell, I was seeking help with panic and anxiety around bodily sensations, particularly ones relating to IBS. Hypnosis itself feels similar to guided meditation, but it aims to produce a relaxed, focused state of consciousness where you become more receptive to suggestions. John guided me into this state and had me imagine a golden light flowing through my body. In another session he brought up some imagery about a garden and pulling out the weeds, of a warm light taking away all the badness, and being able to send it off wherever I wanted. Many people think that you lose conscious awareness during hypnosis, but this isn’t true. You’re aware the whole time. I eventually asked John if I’m allowed to move during hypnosis, if I can stretch my legs and itch my nose, for example. He said I could, which made me feel better during it. He asked my subconscious questions, wanting responses from my left hand, which resulted in my fingers moving on their own, subtle movements like twitches. He told me that the subconscious can never lie. He guided it through the changes I wanted to make and it agreed to make them.
When it was time to open my eyes after the first session, it was hard. I had the sensation throughout that even if I wanted to open my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to. When I finally did, I felt dizzy and my body felt heavy. John explained that things get transferred over properly when you sleep and that I should expect a really good night's sleep that night. He also said that people usually see some results after one or two sessions. Afterwards, I went into The Range and Morrison’s and found it difficult to walk around. I was hit with intense fatigue and had a brief nap with a hot water bottle when I got home. That night, I didn’t sleep any better than usual like John suggested I would. I was disappointed.
During the first session, John also explained to me the importance of our thoughts, how negative self-talk shapes us and becomes our reality. He mentioned a book, Negative Self-Talk and How to Change It by Shad Helmstetter, the teachings of which John incorporated into his hypnotherapy treatment. I knew that constant negative thoughts have always been a huge problem of mine and agreed with what he was saying. It wasn’t exactly new information to me, but I’d never really given it a real shot before. John wanted me to actively work on replacing negative thoughts with their positive oppositions. I was already trying to do this but vowed to take it more seriously and do it more often.
The next day, John emailed me four affirmations to say every morning and evening, preferably in front of a mirror and out loud with conviction. I thought four affirmations was overwhelming but I was ready to give it a go because I felt it could really help. One of them was: “I choose to focus on peace, knowing that I am safe and supported.” For times of overwhelm, John also recommended I take a deep breath and, while breathing out slowly, count backwards from 10 while giving each number a colour. He explained how this would interrupt the subconscious pattern and stop the mind from producing negative thoughts. I used this technique a bunch of times and found it really helpful. John also told me to think of something positive about myself before I go to sleep as it will give me a better quality of sleep and, in turn, make me feel better when I wake up. I tried to do this once, almost started crying, and never did it again.
A few days before our next session, John called me to check in. He asked how I am and I said “I feel really anxious today.” He said that I must think positively and say “I don’t feel anxious.” This sparked a large emotional response in me and brought me close to tears. I willed myself to keep it in because I didn’t want him to know that it upset me this much. I managed to tell him that it feels dismissive, adding that it’s easier to change self-beliefs such as “I am a bad person” or “I am a failure” to their positive counterparts, but saying “I’m not anxious” when I’m anxious is difficult. He said, “your subconscious won’t be anxious anymore if you believe you’re not.” I believe this is true for changing negative self-beliefs overtime, but could this work with nervous system states like anxiety? I didn’t ask him this, but I did say that usually I would change something like, “I’m feeling really anxious right now, I don’t like it and I don’t know if I can cope” to “I’m feeling really anxious right now and I don’t like it, but that’s okay and I can cope.” This is a skill I’ve learnt to use previously.
On the day I finally read Shad Helmstetter’s Negative Self-Talk and How to Change It, I called John and explained that I didn’t know if hypnotherapy was helping. I also explained how I feel like my problems are deeply embedded. He said that telling myself it’s deeply embedded is bad self-talk and it’s like that because I said it is. I finally started crying. I said I was just trying to tell him something. I wanted to add that I’m trying to give him information to help focus the hypnosis but he’s too focused on positive/negative self-talk, and I do understand its importance, but I want him to know what I’m struggling with, but I didn’t say that. He was explaining the impact of negative self-talk once again and I was finding it hard to listen to him go on and on about this because I already understood and agreed with the concept. I was fed up with hearing it repeated.
When arriving at what would be our final session, I pressed the bell and took a deep breath. I can’t be bothered with this, I thought, as usual. I can’t be bothered with interacting to his standard, with listening to him go on and on. He was answering the door. It’s time to summon up the energy to perform. Parts of my true self were coming out each time because I couldn’t be bothered anymore, but I am always trying to hide who I am. He asked how things have been and I said “hard.” He asked how. I found this conversation difficult, too. I explained I was still struggling a lot with high anxiety in response to digestive overwhelm which floods my body. He was fishing for me to say something positive. It was my homework, after all, but I didn’t perform it for him.
John asked about the affirmations. I said I’d been saying them in the morning but found it difficult to maintain it in the evening. He asked why. I said routine conflict and that I didn’t want my boyfriend to hear; that it’s a bit embarrassing and I wanted it to be private. John said he doesn’t care if people hear him, that he wouldn’t let other people stop him from doing what’s best for him. This made perfect sense and I wished I could be like that too, but I couldn’t explain what I really meant. I’m such an open book with my boyfriend and he had already heard me say the affirmations and I knew he didn’t care. The truth is that I have so much shame around my problems that I want to hide and I also just couldn’t be bothered to do them again later in the day. For some reason, it all felt so hard. Four affirmations twice a day. The demand was overwhelming. I told John some vague explanation of finding many things overwhelming.
In response, John went on a lengthy monologue about positive thinking and having to actually do it. He explained how he had a client who said they didn’t have time to do this and he asked to see their phone screen time. 7 hours spent on YouTube, TikTok, and browsing the web. “They did have time,” John said. If he did this to me, demanded to see my phone, I would burst into tears, I thought. I don’t like this and I want to leave. He said I am the most intelligent person he’s had in front of him for these sessions. So why I am so useless? I felt so shutdown that I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do much of anything. I was embarrassed. I told John I felt like crying, confessed that I have still been trying to change negative thoughts to positive ones.
John said “every word that comes out your mouth should be positive” and “do you hear yourself when you speak?” Yes I do. I know it’s mostly negative, pessimistic. I almost burst into tears again. He also pointed out that I say “I think” in front of almost everything I say. I told him I’m really unsure of myself, of how I feel and of getting something wrong. I don’t say that I’m scared to answer his questions, of getting something wrong in front of him. He is watching me so intently, dissecting my speech. I don’t want this level of attention. I know it’s not criticism, but it felt like it. I felt like I was being told off, that I was in trouble, that I was failing.
For the hypnosis, I allowed John to try light imagery combined with kinaesthetic and auditory techniques. He brought in walking amongst trees and the weight of a backpack, letting it unclip and fall off me, and leaving behind the things I didn’t need anymore. I liked this one the best and experienced an interesting feeling in my body. It’s working, I thought. Then, to my surprise, John said I should let him know how I’m doing in a few weeks, to see if I think these sessions have been helpful. He said he won’t contact me, but would leave it up to me.
I never contacted him.
“Every word that comes out your mouth should be positive” and “that’s true because you’re telling yourself it is” are phrases that have really stuck with me. I felt like I was always doing something wrong and wasn’t good enough. It reminded me of the emotional abuse I’ve suffered which dismissed my feelings and made me feel ashamed to be myself. John’s comments reinforced this and the idea that my problems were my fault, if only I were strong enough to get out of them, to think more positively. I know John was not intending to have this impact on me, and I knew it at the time, but it didn’t change that I was having such a strong emotional response to his treatment approach and that I had immense difficulty in trying to communicate this.
Looking back, I would say his comments were likely triggering emotional flashbacks—something I am sure I struggle with. My tendency to exist in shutdown makes it hard to engage in treatments and causes me a lot of shame. I often find myself frozen and unable to move, and I know it isn’t my fault, but I internalise it as a personal failure. My inner critic, a product of trauma, is definitely negative self-talk and is something I need help with. I think it’s a good idea to combine positive self-talk with hypnotherapy, but this wasn’t the right approach for my problems which run much deeper than the reasons I sought treatment for. I don’t know how others practise hypnotherapy and if it would be different, but it will take a lot more than thinking positively or lying to myself about my emotional state (especially when I struggle to articulate or understand my own emotions) to get me out of the emotional abuse, toxic shame, and hyper-aware yet shutdown nervous system I’ve lived in for over a decade.
If you’ve had hypnotherapy, please let me know your experiences.
I have changed the name of the hypnotherapist to protect their identity.
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.