So Friday was about death, and going into it—my therapist explained that most people work on one particular trauma, but I've had so much death in my life without ever getting grief counseling. So we decided to work on death as a broad stroke at first rather than picking one specific loss.
She told me to think about death and sit with how that makes me feel. Lean into all the bad, negative feelings tied to it. Really dig into why they're there.
Then she starts this sound in my headphones—a guitar riff I picked, bouncing between my left ear and right ear while I've got my eyes closed, following the sound behind my eyelids. And while that's happening, she's asking me what I'm thinking, what emotions are coming up, why those feelings hit me the way they do. She'd have me lean into the negative ones. Then we'd stop, unpack what came up, and go back in with a new word to focus on.
We did that maybe 5 or 6 times? I honestly lost count. The whole thing was 45 minutes of that was the bilateral thing, then 15-20 minutes unpacking afterward.
In the moment, I didn't feel like I was doing anything. Just being really emotional. Tons of snot, tons of tears, but not sobbing-sobbing. Not heaving. Just this intense release.
But looking back at it, it was less like being hypnotized and more like a forced meditation. I was in this dark, open space with just my thoughts—not physically, but that place you go when you meditate. Even saying that out loud makes me feel like I'm romanticizing it a bit, giving words to something that didn't have them in the moment.
Afterward I went to Thunder of Drums meeting (barely remember it), ate, crashed hard around 5pm, and didn't wake up until 8am today feeling refreshed.
Here's the wild part: when I started, thinking about my dead friends—which happened every single day—I was at an 8 or 9 for anguish. Today? Maybe a 1. If that.
It reminded me of quitting cigarettes, actually. I quit cigs by reading a book and meditating on why I was smoking them, what I got out of it. But this was the same concept at a way faster, way more intense rate.
It was weird. Really weird.
EMDR is fucking strange and awesome, and I'm sitting here almost not believing it. But I know how meditation is a thing that works & the mind is a powerful thing.
Honestly, I find myself not wanting to think too deep right now because I don't want to flip the switch back on. (I don't actually think I would, but still.) So I tested it out—I thought of Edgar.
Normally when I think of Edgar, my brain goes: Edgar → the kids from the HS car accident → Kiksey → Max → Jono → so-and-so → so-and-so, and it just spirals. I'd be stuck in this loop where I'm only thinking about them being dead, how they died, how they're not here anymore, and then spiraling into "I'm so alone, everyone leaves me, this sucks, and I'm selfish for even feeling this way."
It's not there anymore.
I think of Edgar now and my first thought isn't "he's dead, this sucks, why am I so alone." It's "oh man, Edgar was so fucking cool. I'm so lucky I got to know him." And then I just... move on.
I wrote this just after the first day of that EMDR session. Fast forward to today, a week later, I'm still feeling great. I reread over this writing today. Bfore the EMDR I would be sitting here bawling my ass off, just thinking about the deaths. Now those overwhelming feelings of grief & spiraling thoughts are not there & its a wonderful relief.
Thank you for reading. I hope you can too find relief from whatever burdens you.
Love,
Fuzzy