Well, after some prodding by my pal Stepford Barbie, I went to a hypnotherapy appointment today. I was immediately concerned about my decision upon arrival to the office. I didn't see any signage and all the windows had blinds drawn. My immediate concern was that I had just driven up on an underground prostitution ring. I mean, I was in Lynnwood. I started to consider whether I should go in or not. I mean, I had shaved my legs this morning and I was wearing a skirt that could be pulled up shorter, so, I could pull it off, either way. And, if it was a prostitution operation, at least I could come out with some cash and a satisfied libido. Look at me being positive! It was after I had resigned myself to possibly starring in an adult film that I saw the signage upstairs on the second floor. Okay, it seems legit.
I entered the office and it was very nice inside. The hypnotherapist gal, Ewa, was very nice, well dressed, well put together and genuine. We spent over an hour talking about how I'm a hot mess. I think she spends 30 minutes with most people, but as we all know, I've got stuff on my mind. She listened, wrote things down and then spent some time talking to me about things I had said and how I needed to change my thinking. Look, we all know I have negative thoughts, but I think I raised the bar just a little when it comes to being a challenge. She asked about my thoughts when I was eating peanut M&M's (the ones my boss "hides" in her office for us to stress eat on) and how that dialogue went. I told her how I knew better and knew I shouldn't, but would anyway, blah, blah, blah. It was then that she told me something very enlightening. She said, "We can't possibly know why peanut M&M's came into your life. We don't know the reason and there is no reason to spend a lot of time thinking about it. We can know that they have served their purpose and it's time for them to leave your life. Again, we don't know the purpose, but we can know that our body was not meant to live on or process peanut M&M's."
Okay. Now, you know I'm going to spend some time thinking about it. I'll get back to you on my findings, but for right now, all I got is that they are tasty and are in constant supply. But, I will concede, it's time to say good-bye. Maybe now broccoli can have a purpose in my life that I won't really understand but live with until such time that it no longer needs to be here. Maybe that time is when I can't stop passing gas because I've had too much broccoli. I don't know, this is a lengthy process people, I can't be expected to have all the answers right away!
We then talked about my hatred of my body. This is when shit got real. Did you know that there is research proving that our cells have a memory and feelings of sorts. They can hear your self-talk. Apparently, I have pissed off my cells and they just might be holding on to the fat as a defense mechanism or to get back at me. I've essentially hurt their feelings. That is a lot of cellular apologies I'm going to have to make. I guess they must have had their feelings hurt every time I looked in the mirror and said, "OMG, YOU are so FAT! Look at those huge thighs!" My cells, the ungrateful little bastards, then raised up an army of cellulite to fight for them. Apparently, they are like Marine cellulite. Semper Fi bitches! No one leaves these thighs without a weekend pass! I've got a lot of work to do to disassemble the troops. So, my body is pissed because I'm mean to it. GOT THE MEMO, cellulite, stand down!
We then talked a lot about what it would be like if I let go of all that negative talk and let things happen organically and allowed the process to work. Blah, blah, blah. Then, she gave me a zebra eye mask, I kicked back in the chair and allowed my limbs to melt away. She was all soothing and stuff and talked to me and asked me some questions. I did get seriously relaxed and was conscious of what she was saying and what was going on. I do not believe at any time that I acted like a chicken or did the macarena.
I didn't really feel any different when I left. Not uplifted or down, just...me. I did start to get a toothache on the way home, so I am partially convinced she has conditioned me to have mouth pain so I can't eat. I'm not saying that is 100% true, but it sure is a coincidence, don't you think?
The big test will be when I go to work tomorrow. Do I walk in wearing a t-shirt and tennis shoes, take down the wall on the front of my desk and then kick back? Do I go tell "The Bobs" who should be fired and give them my mission statement? I don't know. I can't possibly know the full effects of what transpired during the two hours today. I know I'm not giddy and light like my good pal Stepford Barbie, but my issues are different than hers, so maybe my behaviors will manifest in a different way?
I asked the hypnotherapist if I should come back or how this works. Of course, every person is different, every person responds in their own time. Some just need a session or two and they are good to go. Others need to come in once a week or so. I could tell she thought I was the latter of the two. I guess I'll see how it goes. Am I sold on it? I don't know. Do I need to do some work on my self talk? Yes I do.
I do ask one favor of my work peeps, however. If any of you see me with a stapler headed down to the basement where I am unable to see the squirrels, please stop me. I don't want to go to prison for lighting the place on fire.
Here are the stages of thought process in my head during the session. Thoughts ranged from, "WTF?" to "eh, seems legit."
I entered the office and it was very nice inside. The hypnotherapist gal, Ewa, was very nice, well dressed, well put together and genuine. We spent over an hour talking about how I'm a hot mess. I think she spends 30 minutes with most people, but as we all know, I've got stuff on my mind. She listened, wrote things down and then spent some time talking to me about things I had said and how I needed to change my thinking. Look, we all know I have negative thoughts, but I think I raised the bar just a little when it comes to being a challenge. She asked about my thoughts when I was eating peanut M&M's (the ones my boss "hides" in her office for us to stress eat on) and how that dialogue went. I told her how I knew better and knew I shouldn't, but would anyway, blah, blah, blah. It was then that she told me something very enlightening. She said, "We can't possibly know why peanut M&M's came into your life. We don't know the reason and there is no reason to spend a lot of time thinking about it. We can know that they have served their purpose and it's time for them to leave your life. Again, we don't know the purpose, but we can know that our body was not meant to live on or process peanut M&M's."
Okay. Now, you know I'm going to spend some time thinking about it. I'll get back to you on my findings, but for right now, all I got is that they are tasty and are in constant supply. But, I will concede, it's time to say good-bye. Maybe now broccoli can have a purpose in my life that I won't really understand but live with until such time that it no longer needs to be here. Maybe that time is when I can't stop passing gas because I've had too much broccoli. I don't know, this is a lengthy process people, I can't be expected to have all the answers right away!
We then talked about my hatred of my body. This is when shit got real. Did you know that there is research proving that our cells have a memory and feelings of sorts. They can hear your self-talk. Apparently, I have pissed off my cells and they just might be holding on to the fat as a defense mechanism or to get back at me. I've essentially hurt their feelings. That is a lot of cellular apologies I'm going to have to make. I guess they must have had their feelings hurt every time I looked in the mirror and said, "OMG, YOU are so FAT! Look at those huge thighs!" My cells, the ungrateful little bastards, then raised up an army of cellulite to fight for them. Apparently, they are like Marine cellulite. Semper Fi bitches! No one leaves these thighs without a weekend pass! I've got a lot of work to do to disassemble the troops. So, my body is pissed because I'm mean to it. GOT THE MEMO, cellulite, stand down!
We then talked a lot about what it would be like if I let go of all that negative talk and let things happen organically and allowed the process to work. Blah, blah, blah. Then, she gave me a zebra eye mask, I kicked back in the chair and allowed my limbs to melt away. She was all soothing and stuff and talked to me and asked me some questions. I did get seriously relaxed and was conscious of what she was saying and what was going on. I do not believe at any time that I acted like a chicken or did the macarena.
I didn't really feel any different when I left. Not uplifted or down, just...me. I did start to get a toothache on the way home, so I am partially convinced she has conditioned me to have mouth pain so I can't eat. I'm not saying that is 100% true, but it sure is a coincidence, don't you think?
The big test will be when I go to work tomorrow. Do I walk in wearing a t-shirt and tennis shoes, take down the wall on the front of my desk and then kick back? Do I go tell "The Bobs" who should be fired and give them my mission statement? I don't know. I can't possibly know the full effects of what transpired during the two hours today. I know I'm not giddy and light like my good pal Stepford Barbie, but my issues are different than hers, so maybe my behaviors will manifest in a different way?
I asked the hypnotherapist if I should come back or how this works. Of course, every person is different, every person responds in their own time. Some just need a session or two and they are good to go. Others need to come in once a week or so. I could tell she thought I was the latter of the two. I guess I'll see how it goes. Am I sold on it? I don't know. Do I need to do some work on my self talk? Yes I do.
I do ask one favor of my work peeps, however. If any of you see me with a stapler headed down to the basement where I am unable to see the squirrels, please stop me. I don't want to go to prison for lighting the place on fire.
Here are the stages of thought process in my head during the session. Thoughts ranged from, "WTF?" to "eh, seems legit."
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