He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was also creepy. The Hypnotist
"Hypnosis Study: The effects of hypnosis on cognitive ability. $40 per weekly session. Seeking participants between the ages of 20 and 35. NY Presbyterian Hospital Pediatric Psychiatry Research
Hypnosis? I've been hypnotized before. And they'll pay me? Nice! Sure my only experience with the stuff was when that hypnotist did a show at my university. After the show I felt refreshed. That night I had the best sleep I have ever had. And once again...they'll pay me! I called and made myself an appointment to "try out" for the lab rat position.
To gauge my "hypnotizability" I was hypnotized. Apparently I was very good at it. The doc, we'll call him Dr X, was impressed and said he couldn't wait to work with me. He informed me the study would test my ability to perform certain computer-based tasked under normal conditions, and while hypnotized. Sounded OK to me. $40 later I was back on the 7 train heading back to Flushing.
The following two months I had gone back to see Dr X for our sessions every week. He video taped every one. I was getting deep restful sleep, and some extra lunch money. Things were going well, until the juice incident. At the end of the session, Dr X "brought me back" and I was shaking and felt ill. I saw the empty OJ bottle on the desk in front of me and asked him what happened. He told me he had me drink the whole thing after being extremely "thirsty". After a few angry words with him telling him to never do that again, he gave me my $40 and I took my hyperglycemic ass home. I did not sleep well that night.
Ever have that feeling, that nagging irritating feeling that something wasn't right? I felt that way all week. I couldn't place why. I went to my hypnosis session as usual. As always, Dr X was pleasant, polite and everything seemed normal. He started recording and before I knew it I was in La-La land. Seemingly an instant later it was over and he was turning the camera off. He went to get my $40 and I put my coat on to leave. Wait. One of the buttons of my sweater was undone. The one just above the middle, third one down. Odd.
On my way to the subway it dawned on me that I had only performed the computer test once. All those sessions and I can only remember being tested once. As if a switch went off the memories started flashing. Like lightning, flits of images here and there. That nagging feeling again. Seeing Dr X. The entire way home I struggled to remember more. Little bits coming to me here and there. Things were starting to piece together but not enough.
At work the next day, in my quiet lab alone as I manipulated my little zebra fish embryos across the slide the first full memory hit me. Dr X. Sitting across the desk from me, he reaches up and turns the video camera off. Thats all I remembered. The next memory did not hit me until I was making dinner. Head down, eyes open, relaxed, hypnotized I was looking at my sweater. Two of the buttons had come undone. Hands, his hands, re-buttoning them. Carefully though. I decided at that moment to never go back. And the memories just kept on coming to me after that.
"Jennifer, when I snap my fingers you are going to wake up. You will be alert and feel normally except you will be extremely thirsty. You will tell me you are thirsty and I will give you a bottle of juice. Jennifer, you will drink the entire bottle of juice very quickly. Jennifer, you will also be very hot and want to take your sweater off."
He snaps his fingers. I am alert, very hot, unbearably hot! I pull my sweater off. I tell him I am thirsty, he hands me a bottle of orange juice and I drink it down fast. He snaps his fingers again and I am staring at my chest. He then proceeds to do a similar test with me being cold and putting my sweater back on.
Its another session. I am staring at the buttons of my sweater. I hear the click of the camera being turned off. He instructs me to stand with my back to him. He tells me to completely relax and fall down when he snaps his fingers. He catches me and puts me back in the chair. I am staring at the buttons of my sweater. Two of the buttons had come undone. Hands, his hands, re-buttoning them.
The click of the camera being turned off.
"Jennifer, when I snap my fingers you will wake up and feel normal. We are going to have a conversation. Jennifer you are going to ask me about my wife, you will ask me how long we have been married and what she does for a living. Jennifer, then I will ask you about your fiance. I will ask you how you met and when you plan to get married. Jennifer, it will be a nice, pleasant conversation like we are old friends."
He snaps his fingers and I am alert. We smile pleasantly at each other and proceed with the pre-arranged conversation. I feel as if this is normal and pleasant. We are old friends. I ask him the questions I think are my own and he answers them and asks me about my fiance. At the end of the script we are smiling pleasantly at each other. I have no thoughts. He snaps his fingers and I am once again staring at my chest. With a click, he turns the camera back on.
"Jennifer, I am going to bring you back now to being fully awake. Jennifer, you will start to remember some of the things we have done here. Just a little bit at first, but as the week goes on you will start to remember more and more. Jennifer, when I snap my fingers you will no longer be hypnotized."
He snaps his fingers, I wake up, and never come back.
I have many flashes of Dr X reaching up to turn the camera off. Many bits and pieces of the tasks he had me perform. But just flashes. When I stopped showing up for our appointments, he had called me once to see if I was coming back. I had gone to see him once a week for about three months. I had taken the computerized test only once. This I am sure of because I had to be "awake" for half of it. In the weeks after I had stopped going to the sessions I tried very hard to remember more but could not recall anything beyond the flashes. That was six years ago and I am no longer having those flashes. I can't decide if I am better off not knowing the rest.
