The rest of the morning and into the early afternoon I merely continued my day with typical weekend stuff. Usually, I find the monotony of such things soul-crushingly dull, but I needed time to think anyway, so for once, I didn't mind.
Around 1:30 in the afternoon, feeling a minor sense of accomplishment for scratching off some of the low hanging fruit from my wife's 'honey do' list, I decided it was time to talk to Chani. After all, I was expecting my wife to be home in a couple of hours; I couldn't put it off any longer.
Even if I hadn't already known that my eighteen year old daughter was holed up in her room, I would have had little trouble locating her. The music reverberating down the hallway made it easy to identify her whereabouts.
After a quick knock, Chani lowered the volume and responded with a friendly, "Come in, dad."
"Afternoon, sweetheart." I said entering her room and looking around. "What'ya working on?"
Chani's room was typical, I imagine, for a girl her age and socioeconomic status. A desk sat against one wall, cluttered with papers, a few keepsakes and the fancy purple Bluetooth speaker she got for her birthday earlier in the year. Space next to her window was occupied by a tall bookcase. There were a few books, but mostly it was adorned with decorations, along with a few old toys and stuffed animals. At one time they were prized possessions, too dear to be hidden away in storage. I suspected that now they were just familiar fixtures on their respective shelves and would remain there until space was needed for something new.
Her closet door was open, and the light was on. Larger than a "normal" closet, but smaller than a walk-in, it was completely full. This child did not want for clothes. Though I only ventured a quick glance something caught my eye and my suspicions from earlier in the day were confirmed. There, in the back of the closet, I saw a couple open totes. Usually said totes, three or four of them in all, were stacked neatly, keeping safe and dry an assortment of childhood memorabilia, things that Chani may want to one day show her own children. Favorite toys, old art projects and even some articles of clothing were kept therein. Clothing like the t-shirt and panties, proudly printed with colorful representations with some of Chani's childhood heroes, that she wore this morning while watching TV.
My thoughts returned to the image from earlier in the day, that of Chani's glorious backside covered in smooth fabric stretched to be nearly transparent.
"Dad!?", I was brought out of my reverie by my daughter's voice. I turned to face her, seeing her sitting on her bed surrounded by books and papers, and blinked as my thoughts returned to the present. "I said," she continued with just the sliest hint of annoyance at having to repeat herself, "that I just finished up my history homework and was taking a little break before I began memorizing my lines for drama. How about you?"
"Nothing as exciting as homework," I responded. "Your mother just had a few chores for me to do. Actually, though, I was hoping we could talk for a couple minutes."
"Sure.", She responded as she moved a few things out of the way, clearing a spot for me to sit. Then she paused, "Wait...," a note of apprehension in her voice, "...about what?"
I chuckled a little at her hesitation. "Nothing bad, sweetheart. I just wanted to continue our conversation from last night. More specifically I wanted to offer my help with some of this stress you've been under lately."
Her friendly and upbeat tone from a few moments ago soured, "No offense, dad, but I'm not sure how you can help. I mean it's just life. I just need to work through it."
"Well, my dear," I said trying to inject some levity. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but your old man is a hypnotherapist. I actually own my own practice, and, you may be surprised to learn, I'm pretty good at it."
She rolled her eyes at me. "I know dad, but I'm not trying to quit smoking or lose weight or something."
"Wow, seriously?" I was genuinely a little hurt. "Chani, is that really what you think I do? I mean yes I do help people with that stuff sometimes, but 95% of my clients come to me for stress. And a good number of those are because they are overwhelmed at work or even at school."
"Really? I mean, yeah I guess I knew that. I just hadn't really thought about it." She was obviously a little embarrassed.
"Forget it, you're fine," I quickly tried to reassure her. "Now that I think about it I guess I don't really talk about work too much. Your mother got tired of hearing about it years ago. By the time you were old enough to understand I had already gotten into the habit of avoiding too much work talk. I mean, technically I'm not even supposed to talk about my cases."
"So, how would you help?" She finally asked after a brief and slightly awkward moment of silence.
"Well, first off, it's important to understand that everyone...and I mean everyone...get's overwhelmed at times, so you are completely normal," I said. It's a true statement, but I've long found that reassuring my clients that they are normal can be very powerful.
"So, keep that in mind..." I continued. "And just like it's normal to become overwhelmed, it's also normal to ask for help, and that's where I come in. I mean, usually, I charge. But don't worry, I'll give you the family discount, and I offer a convenient payment plan."
My expert use of dad humor was met with another eye roll. Everybody's a critic.
"Let me put it to you this way," I was once again serious. "A few times a year you get a three-day weekend, right?"
"Sure, yeah. I could really use one now." She agreed.
"Exactly," I responded enthusiastically. "Because even though you might have a ton of work to do, it feels like an extra day, a free day. So, what do you do?"
Eventually realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question Chani tentatively responded, "Um, nothing. I mean I just chill or hang out with Jessi." Her eyes dropped a little as she recalled she was on the outs with her best friend.
I prompted her again, "And after relaxing for a day are you still overwhelmed and completely stressed out, or do you feel better, even though you still have just as much work to do?"
"Feel better I guess. I mean, I'm probably not looking forward to getting back to work, but I see the point you're making." Her eyebrows furrowed a little, not entirely clear where I was going with this.
"Well, that's what I do. I help people to vent out their stress, so a session with me is like having a day to relax. The work is still there, but the stress is not." There was likely a hint of pride in my voice. I really do love helping people.
"Hmm, that does sound good. Do you think it could work for me?" She was curious and a little hopeful.
"That's why I'm here," I responded matter-of-factly. "It only takes about 20 minutes, and we could do it as often as you need."
"Okay, I'll think about it. Maybe we can try next week. For now, I better get back to work." Her tone was somewhat dismissive.
Shit! I hadn't sold it, and I could tell she wouldn't be asking me about it later, next week or otherwise. I needed to get her on board, and I needed it now. Marsha would be home in about an hour, it was time to turn up my sales pitch.
"Honey, I think you're missing the point." There was the slightest tone of disappointment in my voice. I knew that would get her attention. "Last night you were in tears when you got home from school. You were so stressed out that you practically passed out from exhaustion. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that most of last night is a bit of a blur to you?" My last sentence more of a question that a statement.
In reality, I wasn't sure about that. This whole 'daddy's little girl' regression thing that she was experiencing was new to me. I had a strong suspicion that I was right though, that if she really thought about it, she would probably have trouble remembering any details from last night or this morning.
"What? No, I mean yes, I was tired after school, but that's not unusual, and I certainly remember everything... from..." she trailed off a look of concern coming over her face. "Oh my god, daddy! You're right I can't remember any details from last night!" She was scared now.
"It's okay, Chani." My voice was just authoritative enough to get her attention but soothing enough not to startle her any further. "It's not uncommon. I see it all the time. Yesterday was just an awful day, and sometimes very high levels of stress can cause short-term memory loss. You'll be fine. But, now you see why I don't want to wait until next week."
"What should I do..."
Wow, she was stressed out. Most people don't know this, but hypnosis is NOT about relaxation. It's actually about mental overload. When someone comes into my office feeling relaxed and refreshed, I have to work extra hard to get them into a trance. On the other hand, when someone is completely stressed out from work, then has to drive through rush hour traffic before trying to find a parking spot and running into my office 5 minutes late...I can literally drop them into trace in seconds. In fact, they are probably in a trance long before they even step through my door.
That's where Chani was now. She was already stressed, but I helped guide her over the edge. It was just too much, and part of her was already checking out. It was time for me to get to work...
"Do sweetheart? All you have to do is listen to my voice, use your imagination, and follow along."
It turns out I was right. Chani was already so completely overloaded that I was able to drop her into trance super quick. And, a deep trance at that.
Knowing that I was short on time I got right to work.
Now, I needed her to come out of trance feeling good. Afterall, my plans were going to take multiple sessions. I needed her to want, strike that... need more sessions with me. So the first thing I did was to develop a sense of calm, peace and relaxation within hypnosis. Then using simple suggestion, I expanded those feelings all throughout her body and mind.
