Is Ericksonian hypnosis dangerous? The real risks, and when to avoid it

Before a first session, the same question nearly always comes up, sometimes only half asked: is it dangerous? Ericksonian hypnosis still carries the image of stage shows, of people clucking like chickens in front of an audience, and the idea of some danger to the mind is unsettling. It's a healthy question, and it deserves a better answer than "no, there's no risk at all".

I practise Ericksonian hypnosis at my practice in Bordeaux. I believe in what it can offer, and that's exactly why I prefer to be precise about its limits. Below you'll find what is myth, what is a real risk, the situations where I advise against it, and the questions to ask before you settle into anyone's armchair.

What really happens in an Ericksonian hypnosis session

Ericksonian hypnosis is named after the American psychiatrist Milton Erickson. What sets it apart is that nobody gives orders. I guide you with my voice towards a state of inward-focused concentration, using images, metaphors and pleasant memories that you choose.

You aren't asleep. Most of the people I work with hear everything and can feel the armchair and the temperature of the room. Some feel they "weren't hypnotised" because they expected a blackout. In fact it's a state everyone knows: when you drive a familiar route and arrive without remembering the last few miles, you were already in a light trance.

A session with me lasts 1 hour. We start by talking about what brings you and what you'd like to change. Then comes the hypnosis itself. Then we talk again, to put into words what you experienced.

The myths that frighten people

"You lose control"

This is the number one fear, and it mostly comes from stage hypnosis, where volunteers are picked because they're happy to play along. In a session you can turn down a suggestion, move, open your eyes or tell me the image I've offered doesn't work for you. It happens, and that's a good thing: it lets me adjust.

"You might not wake up"

Nobody stays stuck in hypnosis. If I left the room, you would end up opening your eyes on your own, or fall asleep and wake up as you would after a nap. It's true that you can feel a little woolly for a few minutes afterwards. That's why I don't let you leave until you're properly back.

"I'll be made to give away my secrets"

Under hypnosis you only say what you're willing to say. It isn't a truth serum. And whatever you tell me stays between us.

The real risks, the ones people talk about less

Setting aside the fantasies doesn't mean there's nothing to watch out for.

Unpleasant effects: rare and short-lived

After a session, some people feel tired, have a slight headache, feel dizzy when they stand up, or find an emotion coming up more strongly than expected. The published data are fairly reassuring. An analysis of clinical trials that used hypnosis found no serious adverse events attributable to hypnosis, and other, milder adverse events in 0.47% of cases. The author points out, though, that many trials didn't report these effects, and that most took place in medical settings (pain, hospital procedures). A German review of meta-analyses points the same way: no more side effects with hypnosis than with the approaches it was compared with.

False memories

This is the most serious risk, and the old line claiming it "doesn't exist" was wrong. When hypnosis is used to dig for memories, particularly in what's called regression, it can unintentionally create memories that feel true. A recent review on hypnosis and memory calls for great caution with these techniques. The Inserm report on hypnosis also notes that hypnosis has been accused of helping people "recover" childhood traumas that never happened, with heavy human and legal consequences.

In my sessions, I don't try to "uncover" forgotten events from your past. We work on what you're living with today and what you want to change.

The practitioner matters more than the technique

For Inserm, France's national institute for health and medical research, the main risk is ethical: suggestibility opens the door to abuse, and the title of hypnotherapist isn't regulated in France. The same report highlights a quieter danger: putting off medical care you actually needed. Hypnosis does not replace medical advice. Pain that won't go away, unexplained tiredness or sleep that has been getting worse for weeks are things to take to your doctor first.

When hypnosis is not a good idea

There are real contraindications and I take them seriously. The NHS states that hypnotherapy may not be safe for people with schizophrenia, a history of psychosis, or epilepsy. The Inserm report also names schizophrenia as the main restriction.

In practice, I don't offer hypnosis to:

• people who are experiencing, or have experienced, psychotic episodes;
• people whose epilepsy hasn't been discussed with their neurologist;
• someone in deep distress, with dark thoughts, who first needs a doctor;
• someone who comes to me instead of medical care rather than alongside it.

If you have bipolar disorder, depression that is being followed by a doctor, or ongoing psychiatric treatment, we talk about it before anything else, and I ask you to check with your doctor. Sometimes sophrology, which stays closer to the body and the breath, will be the better choice.

What I do to keep a session safe

At the first appointment I ask about your health, any medication and your medical follow-up. It isn't nosiness: it's how I know whether hypnosis suits you or whether something else would be better.

I then explain what I'm going to do before I do it. No surprises, no abrupt induction. I check which images you like and which you don't: some people love the sea, others are frightened of it, and that changes everything.

During the session I watch your breathing, your face and your hands. If a strong emotion comes up, we slow down and come back to the body, to the feel of the armchair. I can stop at any moment. And at the end I take time to talk it through, so you don't leave the practice still in a haze.

Finally, I know my limits. When a situation is outside my field, I say so and refer you to a doctor or another health professional.

Choosing a practitioner you can trust

Since anyone can call themselves a hypnotherapist, here are the questions I suggest you ask, me or anyone else:

• Where did you train, for how long, and in which kind of hypnosis?
• Do you follow an ethical charter or belong to a professional body?
• What do you do if a session stirs up something difficult?
• Are your prices shown per session, with no compulsory package?

Be wary of anyone who promises to sort everything out in one session, offers to "recover" buried memories, or suggests you stop a treatment. These are warning signs, however likeable the person is.

For my part, I'm a sophrologist and hypnotherapist, trained at the CEAS in Paris and the Sophrology Academy. You can read about my background on the about page, and my prices are clearly listed. If you're torn between hypnosis and sophrology, I describe what happens in a sophrology session.

Your first hypnosis session at my practice

There's nothing to prepare. Wear something comfortable and, if you're taking any medication, tell me at the start. We always begin by talking. If something worries you, ask: there's no silly question when it comes to your own head.

I offer hypnosis for adults in person only, at my practice at 102 rue Ducau. If you live locally, you'll find all the practical details on my page about Ericksonian hypnosis in Bordeaux. And if, having read all this, you feel it isn't for you, that's an equally valid answer.