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Detailed Client Report

Detailed Client Report

Image: Detailed client report on hypnosis

Hypnose bei Stimmverlust

Detailed client report about hypnosis, because the voice just disappeared and nothing helped anymore

Dear Mrs. K., thank you for your detailed experience report about hypnosis at our practice. In order to preserve your anonymity, the picture you have chosen represents another woman. A few lines about Mrs. K. Mrs. K. is in her late 40s and suffered greatly when she came to our practice because she could no longer express herself with words as she was used to doing. Her voice was dropping more and more often, leaving her speechless at different moments in her daily life. Whether after a boisterous round with friends or at work she had to do without her voice more and more often and fell silent. Because nothing helped her anymore, her voice simply disappeared and speaking was hardly possible for her, she decided to travel to Berlin and get to know hypnosis for herself. We would like to take this opportunity to thank her for her openness and willingness to share her experiences and her very own personal experience with us and our readers. Thank you very much for the lines and this private insight!
Read here how Mrs. K. experienced hypnosis - we hope you enjoy it!

Client report about hypnosis, very personal and detailed

Diagnosis - hyperfunctional dysphonia

It's nothing bad, nothing life-threatening - not even painful. I just don't have a voice anymore. Basically for years and of course I often still have a voice. It's just not mine anymore. It croaks and rattles, I can't sing with it anymore, I can't shout anyway and when I spend an evening chatting with friends, I can't make a sound the next day. I have not been able to work in my former job in a call center for a long time, and of course I know that this "illness" also had something to do with it. But I have had another job for a long time, which I like very much and which I can also do excellently "without a voice" - and still my vocal organs are failing more and more often, I am condemned to longer and longer periods of silence.
Of course, there is also a diagnosis: hyperfunctional dysphonia. Sounds good, but says nothing else than that the voice-giving organs, which are respiratory apparatus, larynx and embouchure tube, function only limited. In hyperfunctional dysphonia, the vocal organs are strained, the voice sounds harsh, loud and strained, and tires quickly. There is an increased respiratory rate. True, I am very prone to shortness of breath.
The orthodox medicine recommends speech therapy in this case. That meant in plain language training of self-awareness, regulation of body tension, relaxing breathing techniques, voice exercises and advice on vocal hygiene. Nothing I hadn't practiced over and over again in my decades of experience in the call center and as a singer and amateur actress. So, nothing new and no help.

Treatment attempt with hypnosis

"Try Hypnosis Berlin!" an acquaintance told me, beaming at me over her latte. It was January, cold and my voice was once again going astray. Hypnosis? Do you know anyone there? Yes, in Berlin, a really great, super nice hypnotist. If anyone can help you, it's her! She gave me Isabella's name and her web address.
That same evening I called up the site and sent a contact request. The next morning she called. My voice, just now chatting quite happily at the breakfast table with my husband, said goodbye after only a few minutes. Isabella continued talking. One session, as I imagined, would certainly not be enough. Usually, she said, three or four. I could simply call up her calendar via her website and decide on a suitable date, which I could then book myself.
I was disappointed. Everything I thought I knew about hypnosis had more to do with magic than healing. And why would magic require three sessions? I took my time, thought about it for a long time, forgot about it again and thought about it again. Then my voice left me again, that was the decisive moment. I made the appointment. Still secretly hoping that one session would be enough for me. After all, I just don't have a voice anymore. Then at the beginning of May 2019 I went to Berlin.

My hypnosis appointment at Hypnosis Berlin at Schillerplatz

To say it right away, I am not from Berlin and the city is not familiar to me. So I got off the U3 now for the first time at the beautiful Rüdesheimer Platz. In bright sunshine, I strolled the nearly 700 meters to Schillerplatz. A spring day in Berlin. White-blue sky, which the Bavarian capital believes to have leased for itself, tender green foliage on venerable plane trees, happy people on the streets. I'm early. I am also excited. I don't know why. Or I do. Images appear in my mind's eye of people sinking to the floor in front of dozens of pairs of eyes in vaudeville theaters, purring like a cat or balancing as hard as a board on the backs of two chairs. But why should this woman do such a thing to me? After all, there is no audience. Besides, the voice on the phone sounded nice.
A pretty café on the corner "Como en casa" which means welcome home and right next to it the stately entrance to the smartly restored and renovated building. A little Art Deco, a little Art Nouveau - definitely big city style of the early 20th century. Kind of fits the hypnosis. I glanced at the clock, still too early. So another little round. The eyes did not see enough of the beautiful facades and so the time passed faster than expected. I rang the bell on time, the door opened and I walked through the magnificent staircase. Here you have to step. Shuffling, running, running or even just walking - somehow doesn't work. At least not for me. Admittedly, I also have too much imagination.

How I got to know Hypnosis Berlin

A slender, pleasantly cool hand reached out to me. "Hello, I'm Isabella." Her gaze went to my feet, which had my newest shoes on them, I'm quite proud of them. "What size shoe are you." I was confused. Did she like my shoes enough to try them on? "Forty," I replied. "Thought so. I'm getting to be an expert at this," she explained cheerfully, holding out a pair of comfortable slippers to me. Oh, that's right. This is where the shoes come off, understandably. Only now did I avert my eyes from my hostess, who stood bright and friendly in her equally bright and friendly practice. Tasteful, that's the first word that came to mind. Cozy, but in a modern way, completely without the plushy connotation that the word sometimes has. Cream-colored upholstery, lots of wood, and something really special here and there. Like the fireplace in the corner of one of the rooms, the view of the beautifully manicured garden in the courtyard, the unobtrusive little works of art on the walls and on the dressers.
Natural materials, natural colors and quite a lot of technology. Technology that does not impose itself at all. Someone knows exactly how the new achievements of the Internet, smartphone and -home and so on can be used without imposing themselves. Sound that spreads harmoniously, light that adjusts its colors. She showed me everything with slight but very justified pride and a clear effort to take away my nervousness. It worked. Gone were the images of vaudeville hypnotists and their victims.

The preliminary meeting takes place in the meeting room

A little later, we were sitting opposite each other in her meeting room. Now that I had taken a good look at the surroundings, I turned my attention back to my hostess. She is changeable. Sometimes she looks exactly like the picture on her website and sometimes quite different. I told her so. She was happy about it, but had not heard it that way before.
She looked at me without looking into me - which I expected. Instead, it's more like she was creating space for me with her gaze. Space to be. I cleared my throat. My voice wavered, suddenly I didn't want to talk at all.
I don't remember exactly what all she asked me. What the silence meant to me, I still remember. "It's a release," I explained, wondering. Still wonder. Words are my profession, always have been. I love them, am good with them - can wonderfully hide behind them. Writing, speaking - reading. There were few words between me and Isabella. But we laughed a lot. I told her about my longing for peace, explained to her - and thus to me for the first time - that I wish to be loved and accepted even when I don't have to use words. A new realization that still fulfills me today, weeks later.
We talked about my job as a telephone operator, about the fact that I still do phone canvassing for friends, about being the "grief box" for some, and about singing. Singing while cleaning or while dancing. We also talked about tension, stress, breathlessness, and disc discomfort. Everything in a cheerful tone. All very light and yet somehow meaningful. Nothing I didn't know and yet it was new. Then, finally, it was time. We went next door.

We switch to the Hypnosis Room

The room is a little smaller than the first. It is just as bright and friendly, yet darker in appearance. The comfortable-looking hypnosis chair dominates here. But I did not sit down yet. I stood undecided in the room and looked at a picture of Milton H. Erickson. The founder of modern hypnosis. She told me a little about him, just enough to make me curious about this man's amazing life story. Then, with a slight wave of her hand, she pointed to the chair. I took a deep breath and sat down.
The chair enveloped me warm and soft. But not in such a way that I lost my freedom of movement. Not at all. Isabella asked me if I wanted a blanket, I nodded, let myself sink down and wrap up warm. Soft music sounded, a gentle smell filled the room which was wrapped in a delicate violet tone. I closed my eyes involuntarily. Her voice sounded calmly in my consciousness. She allowed me to relax, allowed me to become calm, allowed me to reduce control to a minimum. With each breath, it seemed, it went a little deeper. Into what? Into me! I know how that sounds. I'll try to explain. I had the feeling of merging with myself. Like the frayed parts of myself, the parts that are tired or lost, the parts I don't like and the parts that others don't like are being put back together - and I, whatever I am, am in the middle of it. No - Mrs. Buschinger is not there. She is present, but she has nothing at all to do with my being together with myself. Now, looking back, I'm almost sorry about that. But that's how it was. I slid deeper into the chair, into myself, into my inner self, and she was just a voice. A voice that brought me gently like an elevator to me.
At some point she asked me what I saw. I saw a red sofa! An uncomfortable old red plush sofa, with a straight, oak back. It invited me to perhaps take a seat on it. It seemed uncomfortable to me. As if I had to sit on it very straight, very posh. Her voice smiled. I smiled, too. Then I plopped down on the posh thing and rejoiced. Feet on the posh fabric, arms spread out, here I am, the mistress of my self. I enjoyed the feeling, felt my power and then .... She explained to me that she would count to three and then I should open my eyes. Afterwards, I was to close my eyes again immediately.
"Already around," I thought and was disappointed. She counted, on three I opened my eyes and looked into a completely different face. Still trying to figure out what I had seen there during that one eye blink. The closest I could come up with was the word presence. Nothing else. There was no Isabella Buschinger, there was completely turned attention. Then I closed my eyes again. Slid a little deeper into my sofa, into my power and energy.
It went on like that for a little while. I don't know how long. I only know that it was wonderful and pleasant. There was only her voice and me, and when I opened my eyes there was this loving attention. When she brought me out of the trance, I was wide awake. I was feeling good. I haven't felt this good in a long time. I felt light and very serene. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time left, I had to go to an appointment, so I quickly and very warmly said goodbye to her. At the subway station, an old woman was playing an accordion. I hurried past her, turned on my heel, ran back and put some money in her hat. The music was simply beautiful.

How things went after hypnosis

I have not been back since then. There are many reasons, all of which have nothing to do with the fact that I didn't want to come anymore. My voice has improved considerably. I feel freer, can breathe better and recognize very quickly when I need rest. In general, in the almost four weeks since my first session, I have allowed myself much more peace and quiet, without a guilty conscience. This is new! I am the master in my life. A banal realization, one would think, but not for me. I still believe that this one session was enough for me, but I will go for more sessions if my voice deteriorates again. I could certainly go to someone who practices in my immediate area. But I do not want to do that. Because I believe that the personality of Isabella Buschinger, has contributed a lot to the fact that I felt so comfortable and that I am doing so well now.

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