Before I learned Eye Movement, Desensitization and Reprocessing, I had considerable success in treating victims of childhood trauma. Yet, there were always some aspects of trauma remaining. People were still triggered into panic by sounds, smells or sights which are benign in the present but propell them back into a terrifying past. This happens so fast there is no time to think about it. As well, their exaggerated startle response to any sudden noise remained.
What wasn’t known back when I was using standard therapies, is that trauma is held in the right side of the brain, the emotional side. The trauma does not have access to the left brain, the logical, cognitive side. It’s only an eighth of an inch between the two halves, but the spark can’t jump the gap, so to speak. EMDR allows the right side to connect with the left and “reprocess” the experience.
How is this done? EMDR treatment involves the bi-lateral stimulation of the brain: left side, right side by directing the eyes from side to side, tapping the hands, using headphones to send sound to the left and then to the right ear. This bi-lateral stimulation uses the brain’s natural way of dealing with upsetting emotion. Think of the rapid eye movement when someone is dreaming. Dreaming is not enough to handle the terror of trauma. The brain needs added help to clear the emotion.
EMDR takes advantage of the brain’s natural way of dealing with emotion. The EMDR practitioner guides the client’s eyes with her fingers, a light wand or a light bar. Sometimes the practitioner uses light tapping on the hands or knees.
Typically, clients start out very upset by the memory and end up putting the upset in the past where it belongs. Measuring the degree of upset on a scale of 0 – 10, people may start out with a 10 and end up with a 0 or 1.
Practitioners of EMDR specialize in helping clients heal from psychological trauma. They are psychotherapists with a thorough understanding of trauma and its effects on people. The eye movement described in this post is safe only in the hands of such professionals.
You can find out more on the EMDR website at www.emdr.org.
Showing posts with label emdr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emdr. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
How our brains protect us
I’m in Germany where I have been teaching the participants at the annual International Focusing Conference how our brains protect us from whatever is too terrible to assimilate into consciousness.
I explained that normal memory, like the memory of being in my workshop, is an explicit memory. That is, it has details. They will remember much of what I said, who was there and so on.
On the other hand, implicit memory, as in traumatic memory, is carried in the body. It lacks a narrative and details.
A normal event is first registered by the thalamus of the brain, then goes to the amygdala and then to the hippocampus for storage. However, if the event is traumatic, the amygdala acts as a watchdog and doesn’t pass it on to the hippocampus for storage. That means that maybe there never was a whole memory. The memory might fragment into pieces that are visual or olfactory, but lack a context.
The mind doesn’t know about the terrible event, but the body does. Fear is the major emotion of trauma. Anxiety and depression result, even though the person cannot attach a reason for the disturbance.
Time does not heal traumatic memory. The feelings are in the present. It seems as if something terrible or threatening is happening in the present – or is about to happen. The task for psychotherapy or any type of healing is to put the past into the past. This means changing the way the brain experiences your existence.
I explained that normal memory, like the memory of being in my workshop, is an explicit memory. That is, it has details. They will remember much of what I said, who was there and so on.
On the other hand, implicit memory, as in traumatic memory, is carried in the body. It lacks a narrative and details.
A normal event is first registered by the thalamus of the brain, then goes to the amygdala and then to the hippocampus for storage. However, if the event is traumatic, the amygdala acts as a watchdog and doesn’t pass it on to the hippocampus for storage. That means that maybe there never was a whole memory. The memory might fragment into pieces that are visual or olfactory, but lack a context.
The mind doesn’t know about the terrible event, but the body does. Fear is the major emotion of trauma. Anxiety and depression result, even though the person cannot attach a reason for the disturbance.
Time does not heal traumatic memory. The feelings are in the present. It seems as if something terrible or threatening is happening in the present – or is about to happen. The task for psychotherapy or any type of healing is to put the past into the past. This means changing the way the brain experiences your existence.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Memories of the Launch
My mind is filled with the scenes and feelings of the book launch that took place a few days ago when Confessions of a Trauma Therapist got birthed and went out into the world. Its mission? To help the victims of child sexual abuse and expose this crime against children.
A kaleidoscope of remembered hugs, greetings, old friends and colleagues, as well as the faces of those who came to hear that it’s possible to recover from childhood trauma – these experiences tumble over and over in my memory.
The book’s conclusion tells about foreseeing the book launch in a dream I had back in 1999.
I am a singer standing alone on the stage of a huge concert hall. My voice soars, filling the hall with its richness. The sound seems to wrap around each person sitting there. A rich contralto rises up effortlessly from my belly.
Then my song finishes and the crowd cheers, deeply moved by my voice. I step off the stage to join Harvey. He and I greet hundreds of audience members whom we recognize as survivors of childhood sexual abuse.
My heart goes out to them as I encourage them to go on with their healing. Then come their friends and supporters, followed by their helping professionals. All of us are joined in the work of healing past traumas and in the fight to prevent child sexual abuse in the future.
That is my dream, my vision and my hope in writing about my own history of incest. Never mind that I can’t hold a tune. The dream may be counter-factual, but it certainly matches how I feel about Confessions of a Trauma Therapist.
A kaleidoscope of remembered hugs, greetings, old friends and colleagues, as well as the faces of those who came to hear that it’s possible to recover from childhood trauma – these experiences tumble over and over in my memory.
The book’s conclusion tells about foreseeing the book launch in a dream I had back in 1999.
I am a singer standing alone on the stage of a huge concert hall. My voice soars, filling the hall with its richness. The sound seems to wrap around each person sitting there. A rich contralto rises up effortlessly from my belly.
Then my song finishes and the crowd cheers, deeply moved by my voice. I step off the stage to join Harvey. He and I greet hundreds of audience members whom we recognize as survivors of childhood sexual abuse.
My heart goes out to them as I encourage them to go on with their healing. Then come their friends and supporters, followed by their helping professionals. All of us are joined in the work of healing past traumas and in the fight to prevent child sexual abuse in the future.
That is my dream, my vision and my hope in writing about my own history of incest. Never mind that I can’t hold a tune. The dream may be counter-factual, but it certainly matches how I feel about Confessions of a Trauma Therapist.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The first book signing
I was still on a high from Wednesday evening’s amazing book launch when I walked into the scene of the annual conference of Canada’s EMDR therapists on Friday. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing is a trauma treatment I describe in Confessions of a Trauma Therapist.
Loaded down with cloth shopping bags of books, I made my way from the parking lot to the scene of the conference. I could hear the speaker at the morning session winding down in the large ballroom to my left. I set myself up at the table which was positioned to catch people as they left the session and settled in to sell and autograph my books. Through the impressive doors of the ballroom, I heard the microphone saying there was somebody selling books or something outside the door. She’d been asked to announce it. Wrong name, nothing about my book, not even the title or the relevance to the conference.
The participants flooded out from the morning session. Most didn’t even notice me sitting there trying to look friendly. A few stared with curiosity, then decided it was nothing that concerned them. The only books I sold and signed were to people I already knew and who intended to buy my book anyway.
Oh well, live and learn. It’s the sort of experience that keeps us humble.
Loaded down with cloth shopping bags of books, I made my way from the parking lot to the scene of the conference. I could hear the speaker at the morning session winding down in the large ballroom to my left. I set myself up at the table which was positioned to catch people as they left the session and settled in to sell and autograph my books. Through the impressive doors of the ballroom, I heard the microphone saying there was somebody selling books or something outside the door. She’d been asked to announce it. Wrong name, nothing about my book, not even the title or the relevance to the conference.
The participants flooded out from the morning session. Most didn’t even notice me sitting there trying to look friendly. A few stared with curiosity, then decided it was nothing that concerned them. The only books I sold and signed were to people I already knew and who intended to buy my book anyway.
Oh well, live and learn. It’s the sort of experience that keeps us humble.
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