Memory & Lasting Stress

By Evelyn Schiff

Memory, like an old photograph, may capture an impression or the mood of a moment in time. Like the photo, it can be shut away and consciously forgotten. But the mind has properties a picture lacks, and occasionally it forms a pattern of thought or behavior that replays endlessly, with no apparent cause. What can we do?

Marty, a vivacious young woman enjoyed a busy work schedule that involved a number of client meetings each week. One day, she mentioned casually that she had an unusual quirk she’d never understood.

“It’s about salad,” she said. “At luncheons and dinners I attend, I see beautiful arrays of salads, but I never eat them. Do I like salad? I don’t know. I look, admire, and turn away. What do you suppose that’s all about?” We discussed hidden factors that might create such action.

Sitting in my office, Marty had no clue about the salads. When she’d entered a light hypnotic trance, however, she saw herself as a little girl, seven or eight years of age. “I’m on my grandfather’s farm by a fence,” she said, “and ugh! Oh, how gross.” She made a face and then went on. “I’m staring into the mouth of a cow, and she’s chewing her cud. There’s this wet, green, evil-smelling stuff rolling around and stringing down her chin. My gosh, this makes me sick.”

I asked her to take the child away from the fence and into a meadow, where we neutralized the effects of the masticating cow. Marty’s body relaxed, and she expressed relief. A few days later she called, ecstatic. She had eaten and enjoyed a salad!

Daniel, a businessman in his 40s, said he was considering marriage and needed an appointment for stress because his fiancé had a dog. “I’m so allergic to dogs that my skin crawls when I think of one,” he began as he sat down to talk. “If a dog is anywhere near, tissues around my nose and eyes begin to swell, and I can’t breathe. I’ve tried many treatments, but nothing helps. It’s even affecting the way I feel about my bride-to-be.”

Daniel’s session, too, involved childhood distress. In hypnosis, he recalled something he’d forgotten — that at age four he’d asked for a puppy. At the pet store with mother later, he saw a little terrier, black, with beady eyes and a wagging tail. Daniel wanted the terrier.

Mother said poodles make better pets, and taking his hand, she walked him over to where the poodles were. She chose the one she thought would be best, and home they went with the woolly white pup, leaving the dog he wanted behind.

Within a few days, Daniel no longer sat on mother’s lap. The poodle could jump and get there first. Nor could he pet the dog, because it growled and snapped. After a while he managed to forget the disappointment, the incident and even the pretence that it didn’t matter. He hadn’t thought of it again. We released his grief, the anger he’d suppressed and a resulting hatred of dogs in general.

Later, Daniel’s wedding took place on schedule. Before long he called to report that he and his bride now walked not one dog, but two. The second? A small black terrier with beady bright eyes and…but you get the picture.

Real names aren’t used in these stories. Permission is obtained, and details are altered only enough to assure privacy. People consent to share because they’re surprised emotions would continue ruling behavior for years on end.

So let’s talk about Bernie, a woman with teenage daughters. She had cried everyday of their lives. Not wracking sobs, but tears that welled constantly from her eyes. Early on, the girls learned to keep tissues handy for ‘mopping up’ mother’s tears. “I cry at parties, picnics, church, at home and work,” Bernie said. “Why, I’ve stopped trying to find out. Family and friends accept it, but strangers stare.”

When she appeared for help, I asked questions and learned when she was three, a little sister was born. She adored the baby, but it died.

Elders, it turned out, had been stern about the danger of “touching sister’s soft spot.” And can’t you just see a small child lovingly patting the baby’s silky head?

Bernie had known for years that a congenital irregularity ended the infant’s life. In hypnosis, though, she saw that she, as a grieving little child, thought the fault was hers. She’d been crying ever since. 

Do we always use hypnosis? No, frequently talk is enough. But when we need an “Aha!” from depths beyond conscious reach, it’s a valuable and non-invasive tool.

Evelyn Schiff, Ph.D. at Gracelyn Stress Center, has excelled in holistic behavioral therapy in Nevada for 35 years. Call 702-363-8740