When I began to look for a therapist, the only requests I had were it would be a female and she would be on my insurance. I did not know that I would hit the jackpot of therapists on the first try. She not only is under my insurance plan, but she is a more modern therapist who uses complimentary and alternative methods for treatment. She is certified in hypnosis and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR).
What is EMDR? EMDR is a therapy now endorsed under the Veterans Affairs/Department of
Defense's clinical practice guidelines in treatment for soldiers affected by
posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). It is a therapy that guides the patient
to vividly recall the trauma (war, sexual, physical abuse, etc) while gaining a
new understanding of the event while reprocessing the emotional and bodily feelings,
thoughts, and self-images that go with it. Even though we do not know exactly how it works, the eye movement aspect involves the
patient to move their eyes rapidly back and forth while recalling the events.
This creates a direct affect on the thalamus-amygdala-neocortex cascade. This
cascading responds to stored memories of their experienced traumatic event. For my sessions, we use bilateral stimulation in which I hold buzzers in each hand and they correlate with alternating tones I hear through headphones. This produces the same result as the rapid eye movements.
During our first session using EMDR, my therapist (we will call her "Akeso" after the Greek goddess of the healing process) asked me to find a "safe" place. I imagined sitting on the Oregon Coast, listening to the seagulls and the ocean waves lapping up the sandy beach. I could feel the ocean breeze brushing my face and flirting with my hair. The salt air penetrated my senses bringing me relaxation and freedom from my chaotic thoughts. This is my safe place. Whenever I want to go there or am directed by Akeso, I am to think of a word I which labels my place. This word (which I will keep private) will trigger my memory and thoughts which will lead me back to the beach.
Once we had my safe place secured, Akeso asked me to think about the traumatic memory and just notice what feelings came up while I was holding one buzzer in each hand. I was to envision myself watching this as if a passenger on a train looking out at the passing landscape. The first thing I psychically felt was difficulty breathing while my insides stood still. My eyes began to tear and my heart was heavy. After a few minutes, Akeso brought me out of the memory and evaluated what I felt and thought.
After the first round, I thought to myself, "That wasn't too bad. I can handle this without too much emotional distress." Oh the lies we tell ourselves to attempt to trick the mind. It was time for round number two. Round number two started like the first round. I was to go back to the memory and just experience the feelings. Akeso slowly sped up the pace of the bilateral stimulation. Before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably. It was as if a scab was ripped off and the puss and granular tissue of a chronic wound became revealed.
Again, Akeso gently instructed me out of the memory. We discussed it and prepared for one final round for the day. The last round took me to my safe place, breathing in the fresh ocean air, listening to the gulls while watching the waves gently caress the beach. This last session left me, interestingly enough, exhilarated. I felt refreshed and energized. I must have been on a second wind for that moment because the next couple of days I felt like I had been hit by a truck. My thoughts were numbed, my actions were slower than normal, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and let this feeling pass. The best thing was knowing that my journey to heal my ignored wound had begun. It was, and is, now time to take a deep breath, be kind to myself, and put one foot in front of the other.
***Before beginning the next step to blogging some very intimate information, I wanted to set up some rules and thoughts. My profession is in the medical field, although, I am not a psychiatrist, therapist, or counselor. The thoughts, recollections, and information I will present are from my own experiences and research. I will not use names of any perpetrators, therapists, or friends. This blog is not for them. It is for my physical and spiritual healing. Any comments one may have, please be discrete if you plan to share your story. Even though someone else chose to violate us, we must rise above and choose not to retaliate by smearing their name on the Internet. If legal action is needed for your particular case, please seek appropriate council.***
Now onto my story. I would like to start with the reason I have chosen this path. Over the last year I bared my soul giving myself emotionally, spiritually, and physically to a man I believed to be my soul mate. All my actions went into how I could prove to this individual that we were meant for one another. I believe he attempted to be honest with me informing me that he was not at a stage in his life for more than friendship. The confusion set in when his actions conflicted with his words. I chose to listen closer to his actions than his words allowing myself to stay blinded to the belief that we were perfect. After several months of on-again-off-again dating, we labeled ourselves "a couple."
Just days after we claimed our title as couple, my mind began racing with fear. I was fearful of losing the man I had worked so hard to win over. At the time, I was unaware of the emotion that had a choke hold on me so I dismissed it as expectations in which my partner was not meeting. These mislabeled, unvoiced expectations began to create turmoil within my soul. One evening he called me just to chat. During our chat, my fears took over and I began accusing this man of not fulfilling my expectations. As a result of the combination of my accusations and conflicting emotions he was experiencing, we broke up.
At this point, I must admit that the break up was not all due to this one incident. He, too, was having doubts and issues of his own he needed to sort out. The fantasy was over and reality hit me with an emotionally-weighted sledge hammer.
With the sympathetic ear and honest feedback from a dear friend, I began reflecting on my actions. I realized that my overwhelming concern of losing this image of togetherness actually manifested into the loss of that particular relationship. The more reflection taken looking into my past romantic relationships, I realized there was something deep inside my psyche that did not allow me to chose true happiness. I wanted to understand more about this fear that resided within me: where it originated, how much control it actually has on my life, and how I can commandeer the control over my own emotions and thoughts. After several months of licking my psychologically fabricated wounds I decided it was time to face my emotional scars; therefore, I sought professional help.
“Whenever I feel afraid I hold my head erect and whistle a happy tune so no one will
suspect I’m afraid. The result of this deception is very strange to tell, for
when I fool the people I fear, I fool myself as well!” From “ I Whistle A Happy
Tune” by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. Copyright 1951 Richard Rogers
and Oscar Hammerstein II
For too long, I have been whistling a happy tune pretending I am brave. This deception began the day my innocence, trust, and idea of life was stolen from me through a trauma no one should experience. Recent events in my life made me realize it was time to stop fooling myself and seek answers to the generator of my fears. Now I have begun a journey to heal this trauma which has controlled the way I respond and react to certain circumstances. Cognitively, I have tried to bury the memory that was created by this trauma in a metaphorically sealed box under layers of concrete believing that I will never hear from it again. Like a mob boss in jail, the memory continued to control emotional responses which have created pain and suffering in my life.
The brain is a fascinating organ that stores memories, creates personality, and controls our bodies. Once a trauma has occurred such as being robbed of one's innocence, loss of a loved one, war affliction, etc., the brain stores the memory in a little place called the amygdala. Without realization, a touch, smell, or sound can trigger the amygdala to send messages to other parts of the brain resulting in physiological responses to the buried traumatic memory placing our bodies into the "fight or flight" reaction. The therapy I have begun is helping me to desensitize my amygdala's response to my triggers.
I would like to invite anyone who has suffered trauma to join me on my journey to healing. I have found that too many of us live with our traumas locked away trying to ignore them. Once we are able to open up, find help, and acknowledge that we are not alone, healing may begin and then we will be able to whistle our happy tunes not to fool ourselves into bravery, but because we are truly brave.
During our first session using EMDR, my therapist (we will call her "Akeso" after the Greek goddess of the healing process) asked me to find a "safe" place. I imagined sitting on the Oregon Coast, listening to the seagulls and the ocean waves lapping up the sandy beach. I could feel the ocean breeze brushing my face and flirting with my hair. The salt air penetrated my senses bringing me relaxation and freedom from my chaotic thoughts. This is my safe place. Whenever I want to go there or am directed by Akeso, I am to think of a word I which labels my place. This word (which I will keep private) will trigger my memory and thoughts which will lead me back to the beach.
Again, Akeso gently instructed me out of the memory. We discussed it and prepared for one final round for the day. The last round took me to my safe place, breathing in the fresh ocean air, listening to the gulls while watching the waves gently caress the beach. This last session left me, interestingly enough, exhilarated. I felt refreshed and energized. I must have been on a second wind for that moment because the next couple of days I felt like I had been hit by a truck. My thoughts were numbed, my actions were slower than normal, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and let this feeling pass. The best thing was knowing that my journey to heal my ignored wound had begun. It was, and is, now time to take a deep breath, be kind to myself, and put one foot in front of the other. 