CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sometimes Your Words Just Hypnotize Me Dr. Binet . . .
I am on edge right now as I think about my upcoming session with Simone. It is the conversation that I just had with Candice that has me uptight and unnerved. Candice left my office just a few minutes ago, and I was so furious that my heart pounded practically through my chest. I try now to shift gears and think about my session with Simone, which will start in about fifteen minutes, but I am just a wreck. My hands feel clammy against my bouncing knees. I can’t sit still. I decide to stand to calm myself down. That doesn’t work. I end up pacing back and forth up. I take a deep breath.
I should have known the conversation wasn’t going to be a pleasant one when Candice came in here, her eyelids raised in a blank stare, as if she were unfamiliar with her surroundings.
Shaking my head, I sigh as a flashback of the conversation comes to mind.
A fist tapping at the wooden door to my office startled me. I was not expecting anyone for another two hours. Who could it possibly be?
C-Come in,” I called from my seat behind my desk.
Candice stepped through the door. “Good evening, Brianne. Can I have a word with you?”
“Sure. Please have a seat, Candice.”
“Thank you,” she said, her tone too formal, and took a seat on the other of my desk.
“Is everything all right? You look like something is bothering you.”
“I am a little scared and nervous. I’m having a difficult time understanding what’s going on.”
“Now you’re frightening me, Candice. Did something happen to the kids? The girls? What’s going on?”
“The last time I checked, everyone is as best as they can be. They’re not my concern. You are, Brianne. I’m worried.”
“Please share what it is that has you worried about me.”
“Your behavior, for one.”
“My behavior, Candice? The last time I examined myself, I was a grown woman. My behavior is none of anyone’s concern, honestly. I am not a child, and I don’t need to be disciplined with regards to my behavior,” I told her.
“Perhaps I used the wrong term, or it came out the wrong way. Although it’s fitting. I am just going to say it.” She exhaled. “You are completely out of line with the way that you’re advising Simone. You’re encouraging angry outbursts. Not to mention how unethical it was for you to attend the funeral with her. What happened to boundaries?”
“I appreciate your concern, Candice, but what you will not do is come into my office and tell me what I should or should not be doing. I have been doing this for years. I know exactly what I am doing. When you’re done with school and actually have a practice, then and only then we might be able to have a conversation of this nature. You can’t possibly have any complaints concerning my practice, because I am reputable therapist. If I am not mistaken, you can vouch for me yourself.” My nostrils flared.
“I may not have completed my master’s or have a practice, but I do know one thing. What you’re doing is dangerous. When you and Jenna had your thing, you admitted how unethical it was for you to continue counseling us, because, and I quote, ‘It is impossible and wouldn’t help for a therapist to form a relationship outside of the consulting room.’ How and why did that change with Simone?”
“Like I stated, I know what I am doing. You’re textbook driven. I know what it is to have a thriving practice and a successful turnaround rate within that practice. Which is how I have been around this long,” I reply.
“If you keep going at the rate that you are going, you’re not going to make it in this field much longer. You’ve crossed every line that there is. Including lines that haven’t even been drawn. No matter how successful your practice has been, you’re not only putting Simone’s progress in jeopardy, but you’re jeopardizing everything you’ve worked so hard to build as well. Also, I will be as textbook driven as you stated and will also stand on the premise that psychotherapy will not work and is dangerous without boundaries. Period!”
“Excuse me, little girl. Everything, and I mean everything, that you preach to me, I taught you. You have your sanity because of me. You aren’t sitting in someone’s nuthouse, because of me! Now, show me some respect! Money doesn’t give you a right to waltz yourself in here and speak to me any kind of way. I am helping Simone the same way I helped you. If anyone’s crossing a boundary right now, it is you.”
“Wow, Brianne. That was a low blow. Money didn’t change me one bit. I came here as a friend, before all this spirals out of control. What I do see is transference and countertransference in your and Simone’s relationship. That same anger she has was just displayed right here by you. You’re turning her into a mini Brianne, minus the practice. You’re using her to avoid dealing with the things that are metastasizing inside you.”
“Metastasizing inside me? Yes, you’ve swallowed one too many of those textbooks, sweetheart.”
“Jenna told me, Brianne. You should get some help. I don’t think you’re fit to counsel or help anyone right now, in the state that you’re in.”
“Get out of my office, Candice. I am fine. Jenna had no right to tell you anything. Don’t you sit there and judge me. Get out of my office. Now!”
“I am sorry, Brianne. I really am. Please talk to someone. You’re spiraling out of control. And another thing. I am sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with you counseling the girls at New Beginnings. I would never judge you. I want what’s best for you, and this decision is what’s best for New Beginnings,” she said. Then she stood up, walked to the door, and left my office. A pair of tears raced down her cheeks as she went.
I am perfectly fine with not working at New Beginnings. Focusing on my practice is what I need to do. None of these things were an issue before I met Candice and Jenna.
That’s enough, Brianne. Let it go. That is just what I will do, I tell myself. Right now, I have to erase it all from my thoughts. I’m fuming all over again from revisiting that meeting in my mind. Meditation. That’s it. I will meditate until Simone gets here, I think. Meditation heals the wounded places in our minds. I have to rid myself of all negativity.
After retrieving my yoga mat from under my desk, I place it on the floor and take a seat on top of it. Sitting with my eyes closed, I put my right hand on my belly and focus on my breathing. I concentrate on allowing myself to breathe naturally through my nostrils. After taking a deep breath, I hold it and count to four. I exhale for a count of four while still concentrating on my breathing. My main focus is on forgetting everything. I refuse to submit to the temptation of reviewing my meeting with Candice once again. I take another deep breath.
Finally, after repeating my breathing routine, I feel great. Haven’t felt this calm in several weeks. As I pull myself up from the floor, Simone barges in without knocking.
“Hey, Dr. Binet.”
“Good evening, Simone. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You didn’t knock, and there’s a strong negative and angry presence here with you,” I say as I tuck the yoga mat under my desk and take a seat in an armchair in my office sitting area.
“I am just annoyed. I cannot explain why. But I love it. I’m usually timid and soft spoken. Not any longer. I speak my mind, and it feels good.”
“What has transpired since our last session, when you were forced to speak your mind?”
“Tracy thinks she knows everything.”
“How so? Please explain.”
“She said I was wrong for what I did to Terianne, and for what I said I’d do to her if I had a chance to. The crazy thing is, in my mind I did it, but I know I didn’t, unfortunately.”
This is a good time to take her to that point and time in her mind, I tell myself.
“Do me a favor. Have a seat, Simone.”
“Oh, my goodness,” she says, gurgling. “I am so fired up that I didn’t even realize I was still standing.” She takes a seat in one of the other armchairs.
“Try to relax and bring yourself down some.”
“Why does your voice sound like that?” she asks me.
“Do me a favor and loosen up.” I rise to my feet and make my way over to where she is sitting.
“I’m loose as a goose.”
“Look up without moving your head upward and try to focus on my two index fingers,” I instruct, holding my index and middle fingers in a V shape above her forehead. While her eyes are fixated on my fingers, I ask her to breathe in and out as I move my hand up and down.
It’s working. I celebrate inwardly as I witness her breathe in as my hand moves up and breathe out as my hand moves down.
“Close your eyes,” I instruct, then move my hand down in front of her face.
After instructing her two additional times to breathe in and out, I see that she’s complying. I ask Simone to open her eyes on the count of three, and I inform her that once her eyes are open, a wave of relaxation is going to flow across her body.
“Simone, when I click my fingers, you will see yourself back in Virginia, at Mimas’s house, after the funeral service. The repast is over. What happens next?”
“The front door is slightly ajar. I walk in. I can see Terianne sitting in the living room, sniffling. Please hold my sweater, Dr. Binet.” She hastily removes it. “‘Is someone out there?’ Terianne shouts. ‘Your worst nightmare, ’ I say, and then I charge her. Instead of trying to defend herself, Terianne tries to save herself from falling. She tumbles to the floor. Catching my balance, I spring upward and use my feet as if they are weapons of mass destruction, kicking and stomping on her face until the color of blood becomes her new skin tone.” She is silent for a moment.
“Look at her, Dr. Binet,” she continues. “She doesn’t have much to say now, does she? But then she says, ‘Maybe we should go, now that you’ve proven your point.’ And I reply, ‘Maybe we shouldn’t.’ I am not done. She needs to pay for her sins and the sins of her brother. Just like you’ve always said. So then I leap my way into the kitchen. I retrieve the sharpest knife I can find, and then I gallop back into the living room. ‘Not so fast. We’re not done,’ I tell Terianne, and then I kick her back down and sit my body on top of her. Sliding my bottom forward, I position comfortably across her stomach. Hand me my sweater, Dr. Binet.”
I hand her the sweater.
“Thank you. So I take it and wipe the blood from Terianne’s face. ‘That’s better,’ I say. ‘Now let’s see what’s behind this evil face of yours.’ I place the knife under her right eye, swiped it underneath her eye, and then bring it down to the bottom of her chin. ‘Look how pretty you are now,’ I tell her, and I admire my homemade makeover.”
Feeling nauseated by her words, and by the images from my own thoughts and my own skeletons, I regain control by commanding, “On the count of three, I will snap my fingers and you will wake up. You’ll be fully awake and alert. You will remember pieces of what you said under hypnosis.” I pause. “One, two, three.”
Simone blinks her eyes. “Oh my God, did I do something wrong?”
“Why do you say that? What do you recall?”
“I am not sure. My heart is racing, and images of a bloody Terianne are flashing in my head.”
“I believe it is and was your anger talking. Try increasing the dose of your medication. Instead of taking one capsule, take one and a half. Cut one in half. It’ll help you sleep and clear your mind. This was a great session. I will see you in four days.”
“That’s the grand opening of New Beginnings. I have to be there for Candice. You’ll be there, right?”
I nod. “I’ll try.”