Yesterday, I finished recording and editing my portion of my latest collaboration file, and I listened to it before bed.

I awoke suddenly at the count-up near the end of the file with a startled shake. I really feel like I fell asleep during the file, but my timing for waking up was exactly aligned with the instructed awakening. I had absolutely no memory of the file contents beyond the very beginning, when I first adopted the "hypnotist's voice."

It's now morning, and I've been struggling to recall any details. A few minutes ago I succeeded in remembering a small part. I remember being at an uncomfortable angle, with my head slumped to the side at the edge of my pillow. I remember feeling too relaxed to bother correcting it, and I remember during that relaxation that I could hear the words of the file and that I was following along like I was supposed to. But then at some point, I decided that enough was enough, and that I needed to reposition. I remember somehow transitioning from that feeling of incredible depth to feeling wide awake while shifting my position. It felt like I must have been pretending to be in trance. I remember thinking about how my sudden ability to move might have looked to an outside observer. This was obviously not the type of slow trance-like motion of a deeply hypnotized subject.

But I don't recall what was being said in the file during that. I don't recall anything before it or after it. I know what the triggers were because I wrote the script and recorded it myself, but had this been someone else‘s file, I’d have absolutely no idea what had been done to me. As it is, the idea that these triggers might now work on me feels surreal. I feel normal, but I was obviously deep in hypnotic trance when they were suggested. I know how hypnosis works, and I know that it's real, and that by all rights, I'm now the proud owner of a post-hypnotic triggered response.

Since I wrote it, I know that part of the file tells the listener to imagine the feeling of trying to resist the trigger, but failing. I can feel that so vividly in my mind right now, but perhaps that's because I wrote those words. Or perhaps it's because I made that scenario actually true for myself, and I CAN'T resist. I don't know. I feel it vividly, but it still doesn't feel real to me. I feel normal.

A part of me still feels disappointed that I slept through the file I was hoping to enjoy, despite having ample evidence that I was deeply entranced by it. I've been actively working towards the goal of forgetting my sessions. It's taken me years of deliberate effort and practice to reach this point. It wasn't easy, and it definitely didn't come naturally to me. I worked hard for this.

Part of that is because I wanted to have proof that it was working. To me, hypnosis often feels very much like being awake. I thought that by artificially forgetting what was done to me, I could force away the nagging sliver of doubt that it couldn't possibly be working for me. Despite all evidence to the contrary, part of me was still skeptical. I hate that part. I'm a hypnotist. The idea that I'm somehow skeptical of hypnosis is absurd. But the feeling of being hypnotized was just too mundane to let me rationalize it having any power over me. Hypnotic amnesia is too far removed from “mundane” for me to be able to deny… or so I thought. “I must have fallen asleep” is the new refuge for that annoying sliver of doubt that I keep trying to overcome. It doesn't care about logic, and it doesn't care about evidence. Perhaps it's here to stay, and I'll just have to live with it like an annoying roommate who plays their music too loud.

Keep it down, would you? I'm experiencing my wildest fantasies over here.