EMDR

It's been a bit. And I was encouraging a friend to start a blog and thinking about all of the enjoyment I got from mine when I frequented it. And then I thought...I should take my own advice and get back to it.

So, hi!

One of the biggest reasons I felt inclined to write because of that conversation but today specifically is because I have traveled a fair amount of distance in my mental health journey. And I thought that needed to be talked about in more depth.

I've thought of starting a podcast but I don't know if I have the attention span or even patience to deal with reactions to things I may choose to talk about. And I already have a blog so...here we are. This was the fastest current to the desired destination. 

So, here we go:

In 2019, I briefly saw a counselor that just didn't click. At first, it was confusing because she seemed like the perfect fit for me. I wrote down a lot of things she said because they were profound and really hit home. And before you think this story is going to take a neck-breaking jerk to the left and she ended up being mental or mean...that's actually not what happened. Honestly, she really seemed like a good counselor. But just not a good one for me.

I began to realize that what I was experiencing within myself was completely uncontrollable. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't "will" my way out of it happening. It wasn't just a behavior I needed to change; it was an auto-pilot that I couldn't shut off. And I finally realized that that counselor could not see where I was coming from, how I was suffering on a deeper level. I really needed help and her method was not helping me.

I remember I had asked about EMDR and she had dismissed it easily, saying I wouldn't be a candidate for it.

I finally decided I needed to try someone else. I figured the worst that could happen would be I'd go to someone way worse. At least she was nice and encouraging and I could just go back to her.

My new counselors name was Ann. I only saw Ann maybe 4 times before stopping due to a miscarriage, and then a pregnancy, and then the pandemic hit. But those 4 visits were enough to leave a deep impression on me. For the first time, I really felt seen. She didn't just tell me what I wanted to hear. She was real and honest and dug deeper. She could see the WHOLE trauma picture, something a lot of people cannot see. Right away, she confirmed what I had known for years: that I had PTSD. And she did think that I would be a candidate for EMDR and she happened to offered it. 

It wasn't until over a year later, maybe a year and a half later, that I finally saw her again. That in and of itself is a funny/awful mental health story. I had felt myself plummeting mentally due to triggers from John traveling for the Reserves and so I made an appointment with her office because I had been thinking about it for months. The day of the appointment was rough and I remember driving there with my teeth on edge, repeating to myself that I was on my way to therapy and it would be okay. What could go wrong??

When I arrived, I halted my car in the parking lot and looked at the empty lot where her building used to be. I kid you not...the building, the entire COMPLEX, had vanished. It was seriously like a mental breakdown moment, like...okay, did I just make up this really great counselor from a year ago????? WHO took my appointment over the phone??? I was a mix of laughing because it was such a ridiculous and weird situation to be in and trying to keep calm and not hyperventilate because I seriously felt like I was going crazy. And of course, no one would answer their office phone. To top it off, I had lost my wallet. So, despite having a babysitter, I couldn't even blow off some steam and hang out at a coffee shop and draw because I had no way of paying. I ended up going home and thankfully received a call back later from her office. They apologized profusely and explained that all new patients were told about the new office but because I was an existing patient, the receptionist hadn't thought to tell me because they figured existing patience already knew by word of mouth. The old complex was demolished to make way for new construction. We had a good laugh and a week or so later, I was able to see Ann again and almost all was right in the world.

I quickly realized that she had really left an incredible impression on me even though I had only seen her a short amount of time and over a year before. I am so thankful God led me to her because she has been a huge blessing for my mental health.

Shortly after seeing her again, I began my first EMDR session. I don't know how many times I've had it done. I couldn't tell you how many sessions it took to feel healed from the first event of past trauma I focused on. It kind of remains a blur. I do know EMDR is different for everyone. For me, it feels...suspiciously uneventful. I don't feel strong emotions while I'm doing it like some people do. When it's over, the only reason I can tell I did anything is how exhausted I am the rest of the day.

Then, usually by that evening or the next day, it HITS.

The first time, I was just flooded with thoughts and information and realizations pertaining to what I had been trying to work through within my trauma. It's like...there had been a dam and EMDR loosed up some rocks so it could begin to release the water through once more.

I have had times where the next day or in the evening after EMDR, I will write PAGES and pages of things that come to me, things that explain why things happened the way they did, shine light on things I couldn't understand before, etc. It's truly bizarre and exhausting and really, really helpful and... unexpected. 

Another thing that has happened both times is when I am actually going through the EMDR session, it is almost like I am envisioning my current self going back to my past self and which ever point in time that particular event takes place. For me, it's like diving into a pool. To get to the memory, I have to allow myself to sink down to where the past me is. And once I find her, then I have to keep underwater with her. Sometimes, my mind will stray and it's like losing my grip and floating in the wrong direction. But I focus and get back to where I need to be.

Two things have stuck out to me with each trauma I have faced:

1. The root hasn't been where I expected it to be.

And...

2. Each past me repeats a phrase that becomes like a mantra, a way to stay inside that memory moment. The phrase, at first, seems random, plucked out of thin air. But I have found that it ends up holding PROFOUND depth and meaning and points to the root of the pain and trauma. Like it is the key to unlocking it and setting it free.

Back to 1. When I first ventured into that experience, that strange memory world, I thought I was pretty confident in where my focused memory would take place. It seemed obvious to me where it was. But when I got there, it felt strangely empty...like arriving at a party and you get the wrong apartment. But it was close. Like I could hear the bass of the music through the walls.

When I finally did find it, I was surprised by where it was. Because it seemed as if my subconscious mind had actually hidden the key; somewhere I thought no one would run across, not even me. It made sense, where it had been carefully hidden. It just was not what I had expected. 

It feels really "out there" to share all of this. It sounds really insane. But it's true. This was my experience.

The second trauma I have faced wasn't as hidden but again, I had to face one memory and realize it wasn't the right one. Realize it wasn't where the root of the pain resided.

I've never had a root canal but I imagine it's like a mental root canal. You gotta find the rot and clean it out before you can make it right and close it up again.

Today, I felt ready and prepared to aim where I was confident the root would be. It's been a few months since I last did EMDR and I've been feeling kind of aimless.

And it felt good today to aim and strike true. 

Stay tuned for further EMDR adventures.