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Scenes From a Memory: Part 1. Scene I: Regression.

September 16, 2015

Taken from:

Scene one: Regression

Another sleepless night. 4th time in a week. I can’t handle this anymore. It is always there, haunting me. The same scene. A girl killed. With a shotgun. I don’t know who she is, I don’t know who killed her. It is not like any other dream. It feels real. I can feel my hands getting from the fear I get when the killer said “OPEN YOUR EYES VICTORIA !”. Victoria. The only thing that I know about it. The dead girl is Victoria. I see Victoria died every night.

My co-worker Jonathan, said to me that I should go see a doctor. Psychologist, or psychotherapist. I don’t know what differs them, but point is, Jonathan can’t stand to see me like this. You know, big eye bags as if I am got stung by a bee every god-damned night.

That nightmare. It haunted me. The nightmare that is so gross, so bad so that I don’t want to go to sleep, because if I do, I can’t help but see the nightmare. I finally made an appointment with a famous psychologist, but it didn’t work. Same thing with psychotherapist, they gave me drugs, but that’s it. The nightmare still occurs. Until one day, Aunt Bethany told me to visit a hypnotherapist near my apartment. She said that she once had such a dream, about a man who took her fishing. It was pleasant, but after every dream, she wants to cook fishes. Something that is being frowned by Uncle Phil, her husband who hates fish, by the way. Aunt Bethany visited the hypnotherapist for like 4-5 times. And it worked. The dream is gone. Well, it is better than nothing, so I decided to visit the hypnotherapist.

It was a small building just behind my apartment. In front of it, a small sign that shows an eyes, with pendulum in front of it, with the doctor’s name in it: ‘Edmund Brooke, CCH’. I’m not used with this. I never came into any of alternative medication like this, it is somewhat not scientific, nor maybe, pseudo-scientific, as a logical person, I cannot simply accept that. But this time, for the sake of my own sanity, I have to. I hate this but I have to.

I’ve made an appointment on 2 pm on Saturday. I get a day off on Saturday and Sunday, just like a regular American Joe. It is 1.45 pm now. For such a close building, it is easy to get late for an appointment. At first, it was like “okay, it’s only 5 minutes walk, why bother ?” then you forget your key. Then the apartment door is locked from the outside, and yes, you also forget your wallet. And it took 10 minutes for the apartment master to open the door, then fuck you, the wallet and the key were always on your pants all along. 10 minutes wasted, and you are 5 minutes late to the appointment. I don’t want that, so I came 15 minutes early.

The waiting room is a pleasant one. Well furnished with wooden interior. Never thought that someone who hired a miserable building in a miserable neighborhood can afford something like this. But heck, not my problem. My problem is the nightmare. Aunt Bethany said that the hypnotherapy will start on the second meeting, but she was took the 1 hour course. Of course she can do that, she’s at home all thay, so she can go to the hypnotherapist everyday. I took the 2 hours course because I don’t really have time outside the weekend.

It’s 2 pm and the hypnotherapist’s room is open. A tall man came out of the room, he seems dizzy. I can only see the tall man, but I’m pretty sure he is talking to the hypnotherapist, he thanks the hypnotherapist deeply. I can see it from his gesture. Well, maybe he’s having another series of nightmares just like me. What’s the name, sir ? Mine is Victoria, how about you ? Really curious about it, but it’s impolite to do so. Just as the man close the door, the assitant called “Mr. Nicholas, please come in.”

I came into the room. It is a big room with a big sofa in the middle of the room. With a small coffee table beside it, and a bigger table, the hypnotherapist’s table in the corner of the room. Behind the table, there’s the hypnotherapist’s chair, and behind the chair, is the hypnotherapist’s collection of book. Lots of book. Most of them are about psychology and psychoteraphy. I bet I can found countless editions of Freud and Jung among them. Well, they’re then only two psychologist I know. Ha ha.

“hello, Mr. Nicholas, nice.. well, nice to meet you, I am Edmund, your hypnotherapist.” Said Edmund, introducing himself. I know he is Edmund, and I know he is my hypnotherapist. And, fuck you, Edmund, it is not nice to see you. It is never nice to see something like you because it is definitely because something is wrong with me. Maybe that’s why he stuttered. But heck, sometimes it is funny to accept this kind of thing as something polite in our society. Enough of that, my nightmare is more important than the impudence of the society.

I spent the first one hour telling Edmund about my problem, and how it affects my life in a very negative way. And Edmund, in his charming –oh man, really, he got this weird psychotic charm, you know, like Joker’s charm in many of his incarnation, his exact charisma that can make Harley Queen fall into him. And I just talk, and talk, and talk about my problem. In the end, he concluded that my problem is something that is called a ‘past life regression’. It is a fantasy or delusion –or nightmare, that is formed from what Edmund believed is my past life. So, he concluded that in the past, I might be Victoria, or the killer, or someone else in that story. In Victoria’s story. After my story, the hypnotherapy begins. I sit on the sofa, and Edmund sit beside me in the small chair.

Edmund said “Close your eyes and begin to relax. Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.” I do what he said. “Concentrate on your breathing. With each breath, you become more relaxed. Imagine a brilliant white light above you, focusing on this light as it flows through your body. Allow yourself to drift off as you fall deeper and deeper into a more relaxed state of mind.” I feel more calm, just like Edmund’s voice. “Now, as I count backword from then to one, you will feel more peaceful, and calm. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.” I feel much calmer. And Edmund’s voice started turn into a loud whisper. “You will enter a safe place where nothing can harm you. Five. Four. Three. Two. If at any time you need to come back, all you must do is open your eyes. One.”

I lost my surrounding, and I see a blinding white light. It engulfs me.

Part 1 scene I ends here.

Next part: Part 1 scene II.1: Overture

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One comment

  1. […] saya kumaha saya « Semangkuk Es Krim Dingin Scenes From a Memory: Part I. Scene One: Regression. […]



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