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I lived in Ireland from 1996 to 1998 and made many friends there. One of my friends, Fergal, was a rather unconventional artist and busker. In the early 2000s he moved to Prague and lived there for two years. During this time we visited each other from time to time, as the distance between my home and Prague was only about two hours by train or car.

After two years in Prague, Fergal wanted to move. He wanted to try busking in my city and asked me if he could stay with me for a few days until he found his own place.

I invited him to be my guest. On October 13, 2003, he moved into my small two-bedroom apartment. A few days turned into over three weeks, which put our friendship to the test (which it ultimately failed). Fergal slept on the couch in my living room while I slept in my bed in the bedroom. From the living room he had access to the kitchen, the balcony (with ashtray) and the internet (which was still billed by time at the time).

While I went to university during the day, Fergal slept in - usually until around 2 p.m. If I got home before he got up, I didn't really dare go into the living room because I didn't want to disturb him. He also liked to leave the internet on, even though he was doing something completely different.

This, and other behavior that bothered me, contributed to me feeling increasingly uncomfortable with him in my apartment and as if I had been relegated to the bedroom. But I didn't dare put him in his place because I still had low self-esteem at the time; not even when more and more friends advised me to finally throw Fergal out.

At some point I finally plucked up the courage and told him that he could no longer live with me and that he would have to find a new place to live very quickly. On November 6th, after more than 3 weeks, I was finally the sole mistress of my kingdom again.

It was interesting that from that day on I could no longer sleep in the bedroom. So I dragged my mattress into the living room every night to sleep there. This went on from autumn until the following spring.

In October 2004, a year later, I learned about the New Medicine. But even before that, I had intuitively known that because of the story with Fergal, I wanted to defend or mark my territory by sleeping in the living room.

This urge to sleep in the living room always came over me when I noticed that it was autumn, that the leaves were falling from the trees, i.e. it was the time when Fergal had lived with me. This urge lasted until spring when the trees getting green again.

I found it exciting to observe this urge in myself (having to sleep in the living room), but I did nothing to break this pattern. For me, there was something cozy about sleeping in the living room.

After a few years, this urge gradually subsided and after about 6 or 7 years, I was able to sleep in my bedroom from autumn to spring. The conflict had long since become irrelevant and my "autumn splint" no longer triggered this territorial limitation reaction.

Unconsciously, however, this splint had also triggered another small, moderately annoying symptom for 10 years. I discovered this as follows:

It was a windy day in October 2013, exactly 10 years after the story with Fergal. I was sitting on the couch in the late afternoon reading a book. Suddenly I noticed that my hands were suddenly getting rough, more precisely the backs of my left and right hands were affected. I remembered that in previous years I had always had rough backs of my hands in winter. My hands always felt a bit uncomfortable because the skin was very tight, dry and constantly hurt a little bit.

But now I paused and said to myself: "Wait a minute! What did you think, hear, see, say or remember just now or before?" Because with my knowledge of the New Medicine I was now trying to get to the bottom of my conflicts in this way.

Suddenly the realization came to me and it hit me like a bolt of lightning, so that I jumped up from the couch and said to myself: "What? You've had rough hands from October to spring for 10 years now and you didn't notice that this

symptom also came from the conflict situation with Fergal back then? That can't be true! This conflict became irrelevant years ago!

You haven't been dragging the mattress into the living room to sleep there for a few years now." I shook my head at myself and laughed at my unconsciousness.

I then quickly remembered that a few hours earlier, when I looked out of the window, I had said to myself: "Now the leaves are falling from the trees, now it is autumn." This observation had also been the trigger for my subconscious over the past 10 years to warn me of a potential new danger with the symptom "rough hands on the outside", or more precisely, to want to fend off someone - Fergal -, push them away, push them out of my apartment.

This conflict affects the ectodermal epidermis, which causes a loss of cells and a functional restriction in the conflict activity. In my case, as already mentioned above, the conflict content was clearly "wanting to be separated". As a biological left-hander, my left hand, the partner side, should actually have been affected alone, but this conflict seemed to have become generalized in me, so that both backs of my hands were affected.

This realization had set a lot of things in motion emotionally within me and in my euphoria I thought; "Now you're going to start dissolving this splint, because this conflict has been irrelevant for years."

I sat down on the couch again, looked at my hands and thanked my subconscious for warning me all these years about another potentially conflictual situation "every time the leaves fell from the trees".

I then explained that this conflict had become irrelevant some time ago and that from now on I no longer needed a warning, i.e. no more rough hands all winter long. I gave this self-address with strong feelings of gratitude, with determination and conviction.

And lo and behold, after a day and a half I no longer had rough hands! I was fascinated by how well the dissolving of this splint had gone. I was grateful and full of anticipation to also resolve other splints and allergies that were no longer necessary in this way.

But I was also curious to see whether the rough hands would come back next October or whether my address to my subconscious had put this splint into retirement once and for all.

Well, the rough hands came back in the autumn the following year in a less severe form, but I didn't give up and spoke to my subconscious again in a similar way to the year before. Once again, after a day and a half, the rough hands were history and it has stayed that way ever since.

 

Report translated by: Monique Hetfeld