In my first EMDR session, I learned that I don’t know what I’m talking about. Not that I didn’t know. That I still don’t.
It’s not a terrible place to be, because I like to learn. Also, the less I know, the less I’m afraid I’m forcing things to happen. It felt a bit that way, anyway. I’m tap-tap-tapping, letting my mind do its thing, and when it stalls, I try to make it move. I want to get something out of this, and going blank feels unproductive.
How can I reprocess a memory if no memory comes to me?
The process felt a bit like playing with an Ouija board. (Yes, I did that when I was a kid. No, my Baptist preacher father wouldn’t approve.) Looking back, I know someone was moving the triangle thingy, and I’m pretty sure I know who it was. Sometimes it was me. It was funny, and I’m not sorry.
But grownup Rach tried very hard not to force anything during therapy.
The sessions went like this:
- Install a safe place
- Choose a memory to reprocess
- Reprocess chosen memory
Last time I blogged, I thought I would be going from session 1 to session 3, so that’s why it’s been two weeks instead of one since I shared anything. And actually, we didn’t even do the memory we said we were going to at session 2. He started me on a lower anxiety one, a memory I’ve told many times and thought was just a funny (though scary) thing that happened to me once.
The Bull
This memory popped up unexpectedly, and though I always laugh when I tell it, it made me cry during the session. Could be my hormones–they make me cry over everything–but I got stuck pretty hard. And that’s kinda the point.
Remembering it made me feel stuck. Constricted throat, heart pounding, frozen with fear.
When I was around 7 years old, I was staying with my Sunday school teacher at her house in the country. She had a bull. I saw her go in its pen to feed it and decided it must be tame since it didn’t charge her. We had bulls at our house, too. We rode them, didn’t fear them.
This bull didn’t know me and didn’t want me in its pen. It lowered its head and thundered toward me. I had only just stepped inside, and it had a long way to run. I could have stepped out and closed the gate, but instead, I just stood there. Stuck. Frozen with fear.
Reprocessing
We started with the way I felt as the bull charged me, and then my mind took over. This is where I get iffy. Am I correlating things on purpose, or is my brain working on my behalf? What’s the difference? My therapist said not to resist, so I tried to let it happen. And it went all over the place.
Laughing memories, terrified memories, stuff I can’t explain, and stuff I can. I get why my mind jumped to a time when I was in college. A guy bullied me, and my roommate stood up for me. (Thanks, Meg!) Then she told me I needed to learn to stand up for myself.
Next I jumped to a time when I was very young, toes curled around the end of a high board, too scared to dive. Then I was at my desk, scared to hit publish. Then with my brother, fleeing an angry turtle. (Did you know they can hiss?) He threw a rock on its back and cracked its shell, because I was too stupid to back away from it. From a turtle!
I revisited a trauma that occurred when I was 18, when freezing took something from me I can never get back.
Then I jumped to a fun game my brother and I played on rainy days. Reading books by flashlight under a mattress tilted against the wall. No idea how or if that correlates.
Finally, I went back to the original memory, where we assigned it a negative idea I believe about myself. By we, I mean me. I chose the phrase that correctly expressed my thoughts in that moment. When applied to all the other memories, especially the one when I was 18, it shattered me. And it felt utterly true.
I Can’t Protect Myself
This surprised me. Not so much that I felt that way as the bull charged me, though I could have protected myself simply by stepping out of the pen. It makes sense to feel helpless when you’re 35 pounds, too scared to move, about to be speared or launched by a raging hunk of beef.
But that it’s affecting me today? That it’s not just a funny memory I tell to explain to people that I’ve never handled fear appropriately. I’m a freezer. I get stuck. And apparently, I have a core belief that I can’t protect myself. Anyone who knows me is unlikely to think I feel this way.
I’m a beast. Don’t mess with me, because I DO WHAT I WANT! I actually wrote I do what I want on my name tag at re:generation instead of my name. That’s how sure I was that I’m in control. I even drew a little crown on it.
But guess what I picked as my new message to myself. Tearfully, I might add.
I’m In Control Now
I can’t say for sure that I accomplished anything. We reprocessed the memory, changing “I can’t protect myself” to “I’m in control now.” I definitely felt different the last couple times we visited the memory. It makes me laugh to recall myself standing there like a dummy while murder came rushing toward me. But then, it always did. Hopefully, the tone of my laughter has changed.
My therapist said the processing will continue after the session, and he wasn’t wrong. Memories keep popping up, adding to the list of times I’ve frozen. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I don’t know yet if it’s helping me, but I definitely know more about myself than I did before starting EMDR.
Next week, we’ll tackle a new memory. I won’t even bother to predict how that’s going to go.