Positively Fearless

Vera Peiffer

Description

A self-help manual by well-known hypnotherapist and psychotherapist Vera Peiffer, offering up-to-date solutions for anyone who wants to overcome their fears, phobias, panic attacks, anxiety or obsessive-compulsive disorder. This updated and extended edition is available only as an ebook and comes with a free MP3 recording. Start living again!

Sujets

• Popular psychology

Informations

• Publié par: Peiffer Press
• Date de parution: 06 juin 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780954722777
• Langue: English

Extrait

Vera Peiffer
Positively Fearless
Breaking free of the fears that hold you back
Revised and extended edition
With Bonus Self-Hypnosis MP3 for relaxation
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Introduction
PART 1: THE NATURE OF FEAR
Chapter 1: Causes and Effects
Positive and Negative Fear
Initial Occurrence and Self-Perpetuation
How Fear Comes About
Conscious and Subconscious Processes
Physical, Mental and Emotional Symptoms
Secondary Gain
Chapter 2: Different Fears
Different Levels
The 10-Point Fear Scale
Premonition (Level 0—3)
Apprehension (Level 1—2)
Worrying (Level 3—5)
Phobias (Level 5—9)
Agoraphobia and Panic Attacks (Level 6—10)
Anxiety (Level 6—9)
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorders OCD (Level 7—9)
Different Categories
Fear of Failure
Fear of Separation
Fear of Loss
Fear of the Future
PART 2: THE SOLUTIONS
Chapter 3: Freedom from Fear
Establishing the Status Quo
Correct Breathing and Relaxation
Physical Exercise
Desensitization through Visualization
Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP)
Positive Thinking
Paradoxical Intention and De-reflection
Hypno-Analysis
Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT)
Flooding
Nutrition
Summary
To claim your Bonus Self-Hypnosis MP3, e-mail us at [e-mail].
© Vera Peiffer 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the prior permission in writing by the publisher.
ISBN 978-0-9547227-7-7
Peiffer Press 75 South Lane GB - Ash GU12 6NL
www.vera-peiffer.com [e-mail]

DISCLAIMER
Peiffer Press has designed this book to provide information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that the publisher and the author are not liable for the misconception or misuse of the information provided. Every effort has been made to make this book as complete and accurate as possible. The purpose of this book is to educate. The author and Peiffer Press shall have neither liability nor responsibility to any person or entity with respect to any loss, damage or injury caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book. The information presented herein is in no way intended as a substitute for medical counselling.
To dear Pia Slongo, with love and gratitude for making my childhood bearable.
To the man who is afraid, everything rustles.
Introduction
Heidelberg, Germany, 1953. He unlocked the heavy oak door that led down to the cellars of the university and motioned the others to follow him. He shone his torch in front of him, illuminating the narrow, steep steps that led down into the maze of vaults that lay underneath the main building.
There were five of them filing down the old stone steps: four members of the fraternity, recognizable by the caps and bands they were wearing, and one applicant, a dark haired, rather pale young man called Richard who wished to join the fraternity.
He had not been told where they were going to take him, and he knew, without anyone telling him, that it would have been bad form to ask. It would have been like admitting that he was worried, which of course he was; so he just followed the student in front of him. Nobody was speaking.
Richard was second in line, with three students following behind him. He felt very nearly like a prisoner, even though he knew nobody was forcing him to do this. It was not so much the students behind him that forced him but his own pride that compelled him to go on. If he backed out now, he would lose face, he would be regarded as a coward and be the laughing stock of the college. Therefore he decided that it was now simply a matter of pulling himself together and going through with it.
They reached the bottom of the steps which led them into a musty-smelling vault where tools and various materials that were needed for the maintenance of the college were kept. It was chilly down here, and Richard felt the cold from the bare stone floor creeping through the soles of his shoes up into his legs. He noticed with some alarm that it was already impossible to hear any sounds or voices from upstairs; only their own steps echoed hollowly in the windowless basement room as they crossed over to another door.
The student with the torch produced a second key and ceremoniously unlocked the door. Before he opened it, he turned around to Richard and shone the torch in his direction. `Your task,' he said in a low, matter-of-fact voice, `is to stay in the room beyond this door for the next hour. Once you have entered the room, I will lock the door behind you. In an hour, we will be back to let you out.' One of the other students gave a brief laugh and added ominously, `Unless we forget ...!' Richard felt a lump in his throat and his heart beating faster.
The student with the torch opened the door just enough for Richard to squeeze through into the room beyond, holding the light well away from the door so that Richard was unable to see the interior. As soon as Richard had entered the room, the door behind him slammed shut, and a moment later he heard the key turn in the lock. He heard a muffled, `Have fun!', then retreating steps, then nothing.
And then there was only silence and darkness. Utter darkness. Richard stood very still. The only thing he could hear was his breathing. He kept his back firmly pressed against the door, waiting, hoping that his eyes would adapt to the darkness in a little while so that he could see where he was. He did not know how big the room was or what shape it was or what was in it. He stared into the darkness and waited, waited, his eyes forced wide open. He turned his head slowly from right to left, hoping to detect an outline of something, but he could not see. For a moment he felt as if he had gone blind, and he could feel a sudden panic rising in him. He started to shiver, his heart thundered in his chest and he noticed suddenly that his hands had become clammy.
With his back firmly pressed against the door, he slid slowly down into a sitting position until he felt the stone floor under his backside. He cowered for a while, listening to the darkness. The air was stale and cool against his face. He strained his ears for sounds around him, sitting quite still. His rapid breathing frightened him. What if there were mice here or, even worse, rats? The college grounds were infested with them, everyone knew that. He started shaking again. He was hugging his knees for warmth and he knew that the knuckles of his fingers were white with tension. The cold from the floor was beginning to creep into his bones and he realized that he would not be able to remain seated for long.
He tried to put the thought of rats out of his mind, but without success. His fear was beginning to become a thing in itself which he could no longer control. Anxious thoughts made his head spin. Not being able to see his surroundings made him feel helpless and exposed and he became aware of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He decided to stand up again to get most of his body away from the ground which was where the rats would be if there were any.
He slid up slowly, his back pressed against the door, still shaking, still listening and staring at the invisible floor. How long had he been in here now? He didn't have his watch on him; they had made him leave it behind in his room when they came to collect him. But he could not have seen what the time was in this pitch darkness anyway ...
He forced himself to think rationally. He would only be in here for an hour, in fact less than an hour because some time had already elapsed since he entered the room. He would just stand here by the door and count the minutes as they ticked by until his time was up and they came to get him. If they didn't forget him, that was. If they did, he could die down here. Even if he screamed, nobody would hear him. Maybe there was a skeleton somewhere in this room, the remains of someone who had been forgotten down here. This sudden thought was so powerful that he decided not to move from his present position so as not to touch anything, dead or alive, that might be in the room.
He felt he had been standing there for an eternity, his feet and legs tired but tensely pressed together, his arms hugging his shoulders. He just could not stop thinking about the rats when suddenly his heart nearly stopped there had been a sound from the left. Or at least he thought there had been a sound. He held his breath in case the sound reoccurred, at the same time slowly turning his head in the direction from where the little whispering noise seemed to have emanated.
All his senses were on alert, he could feel every muscle and every fibre of his body getting rigid and his breath coming in quick, shallow puffs as if he had been running. He was petrified with fear. What if that rat was creeping up on him slowly? They were very clever animals, everyone knew that. They could probably see in the dark. His mind was suddenly flooded with all those stories he had read or heard of rats attacking people, running up people's legs and biting them in the face or going for their throat with those razor-sharp teeth ... He could only just stifle a scream.
Suddenly, there! Another sound, this time from further over to the right! The rat was moving about, or even worse, there were several of them. Richard was panting. They lived in colonies, didn't they? His scalp was creeping and he felt his whole body covered in goosebumps. Even though he could not see anything, he didn't dare close his eyes. He was straining to hear any further sounds so he would know how fast they were advancing. His back hurt with the pressure against the door but he could not ease it; the door was his only point of reference in the room and he preferred to endure the piercing pain that wa