Page 80 of The Mastermind

AUDRI

Dr. Liz Finneganwore a floral blouse with khaki slacks. She had her hair in a long braid, making her appear like a friendly neighbor instead of a strict doctor. Perhaps that was her intention, to make her clients feel at home while in her care. Gentle, brown eyes and a warm smile greeted me.

“Welcome, Audri. Have a seat.” She gestured to a sage couch beside her armchair.

Smiling, I made myself comfortable, running my hand over the soft fluffy yellow pillows. A white throw with the same softness was folded beside me.

I had a brief conversation with Dr. Finnegan the other day to prepare for this session. With all the research I had done on hypnotherapy via the internet and my conversations with Remi, I should be ready. Nerves rattled inside me, but I didn’t need an antacid. Studying about something was totally different from experiencing it.

Walking down memory lane to revisit traumatic events took courage and energy, but I needed to do this. I had to heal, so I could truly move forward.

My childhood therapist had helped a little, but at that time, I hadn’t been ready. Being with Remi benefited me tremendously. He wasn’t just my lover; he was also my friend. He had opened my heart to new possibilities and emotions.

“Can stress trigger flashbacks?” I asked the doctor as I shut off my phone and tucked it inside my purse.

“Stress does several things to the body and mind.” She casually crossed her legs in a casual manner. “It can certainly trigger any traumatic moments in your life that have been buried.”

I nodded. The incident with Lawrence and Teresa and the shopping center brought back the anxiety from my childhood.

I explained about my recent flashback episode. “Do you think I had a memory or was it a nightmare?”

“Take a deep breath and close your eyes . . . wipe your mind clean. Pretend you’re a blank piece of paper, and ask yourself that question. What does your intuition tell you?”

I did as she suggested, and my gut told me, “It’s a flashback in the form of a nightmare.”

“Often, we don’t trust our intuition, but it’s one of the key components of understanding ourselves. Our psyche is like a deep well of information. The heavy stuff falls to the bottom.Sometimes, a trigger creates a ripple effect that stirs up everything. That’s when hidden stuff surfaces.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Depends. If you’re ready to face them, then yes, but if you’re not, it could push you back a few steps. My hunch tells me you’re ready. I can tell by your questions, your demeanor, the way you sit, and the curiosity sparking in your eyes. You want to know what’s hindering you.”

“I’m ready.”

Dr. Finnegan smiled. “When things come to the surface, you can remove them. You see them, feel them, and release them.”

“Why do we shove the important stuff into the well?” I asked, following her analogy.

“We toss what we fear. It’s that simple. It’s a protective mechanism until we’re ready to face it. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t ready. Are you allergic to essential oil?”

“No. I love it.”

“Wonderful.” She rose from her seat to turn on the essential oil diffuser. “I hope you’re okay with lavender? It will help you relax. Feeling safe is important during hypnosis.”

Safe.That word made me think of the man waiting for me outside. I’d never felt more protected than when I was with Remi.

“We’ll take it slow. I’ll be using verbal repetition and mental images to help guide you. Once you’re in a receptive state, I’ll give you suggestions to maneuver around the mental terrain. We’ll take baby steps. As you move along, visualize what you want to accomplish. Do you know what you want to accomplish?”

I considered her question. Over the years, I’d seen the same thing over and over again. Each time I revisited the past, my eyes burned from the raging flames, my skin melted from the heat, my lungs choked from the smoke, and panic rose like a surge of bile up my throat. All physical reactions to the trauma, but none scraped at my soul the way guilt had. Guilt had become an illness that had spread to every corner of my body, preventing me from truly healing . . . fromgrieving.I hadn’t been able to tap into its rawness to let go. I’d been stuck, choking on the same repetition without looking at what had imprisoned me—my dad and Mochi’s deaths. The fear of reliving those horrifying moments kept me fromseeingeverything.

Tears flooded down my cheeks without me realizing it until Dr. Finnegan handed me some tissues.

“I’m sorry, I just . . .” I dabbed my eyes and blew my nose.

“Don’t be. Crying is a form of release, part of the healing process.”

I inhaled a deep breath, then replied to her question, “I want to start healing from the core. I want to face everything that has been blurred by guilt.”

“That’s excellent, Audri. Guilt can distort your emotions, making you afraid so you can’t witness the truth. Guilt gives you a mask to wear as you experience the pain because it hides the truth.”

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