This is a story of hope.
The things we hide from others because we fear making them uncomfortable. Our secret fears of looking weak. The hurts we carry, day to day, that dictate exactly how we respond to certain situations. The internal messages we have on a loop. ‘You’re so stupid stop being a baby of course that happened because you are a bad person and you deserve it you never have done anything right you disappoint everyone please don’t look at me.
Why are some of us affected so deeply by certain experiences and others not? Having spent a year in Trauma Reprocessing Therapy, I’ve come face to face with many instances in my life that shouldn’t have been that big a deal. Yes, I have had traumas that were “legitimate” (meaning anyone would say yes, I can see how that would leave some damage.) I have had people come through my life that have showed malice towards me. The majority of people in my life have not, though. The majority of my traumas were nobody’s fault. They were only circumstances that I reacted to in a way unique to me. Some of them remained , fast inside me. They did not heal correctly.
The heart pounds, there is a rush of blood, a confusion, a panic, a fear. We feel humiliated, we feel in danger, we feel vulnerable. We get hurt. The body remembers. In some cases, instead of making it a learning experience, our body and mind, instead, sends us warnings so we don’t end up in similar circumstances again. These warnings become the background noise of our lives. Our anxiety, our poor coping mechanisms, the things we say to ourselves that we would never say to another human being.
There are generally about 10 to 20 unprocessed memories that are responsible for most of the pain and suffering in most of our lives. These memories contain the emotions, perceptions and physical sensations that you experienced at the time of the original event. While the image of the event may not intrude on you currently, as it often would if you had PTSD, the negative self-talk you may experience is directly related to the perspective you had at the time of the negative experience. The knot in the stomach, tightness in the chest, the feelings of fear, shame or powerlessness are all directly related to the earlier event
Getting Past Your Past, Chapter 4, Francine Shapiro
Here’s the thing about trauma. Malice or not, big deal or not, big or small, it is our responsibility alone to heal. Especially difficult in the cases where there indeed was malice, because what you want is justice. Justice is an entirely separate matter. The responsibility is our alone to heal ourselves from the life experiences that are affecting us negatively in the present.
These instances collect, they pool within us. Suddenly you are a 50-year-old woman who gets unreasonably upset doing this and feels like punching someone doing that, who’s heart pounds without mercy if any anger is detected around her, who fears anyone seeing her soul, because once someone saw it and left her. Who hides her words in books she stacks under the bed, who developed an eating disorder, who has been tipped into dangerous episodes of depression over things that other people seem to handle. Who is unable to look forward to things for fear of being hurt when they are over, who is scared of dark waters and sea creatures, who pushes her anger down to dangerous depths.
In Part One of this blog post (click here) the basics of EMDR therapy, what it is and why it is so effective, are discussed. To read a detailed transcript of an EMDR session (click here). The following are my memories and reflections of the EMDR process as taken from my journals.
March 16, 2019
“My body is my betrayer, my Judas. My body has evil-intentions towards me. It works maliciously against the rest of me.
Today in therapy we started on this worn out theme. Nothing I haven’t been consciously aware of, for most of my life. So many memories to choose from that make me emotional, I went with one of the bigger ones, one of the most recent ones, my insulinoma and Whipple surgery . I have never been so afraid of anything in my life. It wasn’t until long after the surgery that I had the energy to ask – why me? Why me. The answer was my insidious body.
My body and I have had a contentious relationship from the beginning. In EMDR processing, I saw my young parents seeking a diagnosis for me. Their toddler who’s nose and mouth would bleed through the night if she fell and hit them on anything. My bleeding disorder, VonWillebrands Disease, in the Hemophilia family, has caused great difficulty in my life. Necessitating surgeries, causing arthritis, countless ER visits. Anything that has gone wrong in my body has been exacerbated by this condition. It’s the way I’ve always been. I know nothing different. and yet it did, undeniably, make my life more difficult. From the beginning.
I traveled back to hitting puberty earlier than anyone else. I didn’t want to give up my child body. I learned self-hatred, at this young age, because my body would not bend to my will to stop this. A key factor in the eating disorder I would later develop. I hated my body for this and wanted to punish it.
I saw myself in my late 20’s weeping in the bathroom over the hundredth negative pregnancy test. A time when I, again, could not force my body to bend to my will.
But then, I started to travel back through the same memories, seeing different things than before. I saw myself, after being released from the hospital for my eating disorder. I was walking one evening and remember feeling so healthy and strong. I was so grateful to have hope and health again. I saw myself, happy and glowing, about to give birth. How much I loved my pregnant body. How good I felt. How I healed myself from my insulinoma experience by becoming an advocate for information, diagnosis and proper testing of this rare tumor. How I was able to give words of hope to others facing Whipple surgery by telling them – I now feel healthier than I ever have. It was not a death sentence. I saw myself joining Weight Watchers last year our new home of Florida. Sitting at a table with women who would become friends, starting my journey back to health. I saw myself in Zumba for the first time, so shy and so afraid to be noticed. The class would save my life this past summer. Regardless of how bad I felt emotionally, my body did not fail me. My body has adapted. To everything. I find myself in better health now than I ever remember being. My body is amazing.
April 21, 2019
Today in therapy we started discussing my ‘dark night of the soul’. I see myself at 22 years old, curled up on the couch in the middle of the night. Living room lit by nothing more than a single string of white Christmas lights that my roommates had put up. This is an image of myself that has haunted me over the years. This one mental photograph has come to represent the period of one year in my life that changed so much about me. It made me angry, sad, sorry for myself. I saw other times of my life that were dark. Always there is a me at a younger age, curled up on floor bed or couch. Alone, where I didn’t have to pretend to be feeling better than I was.
And then, I saw the beginning of my year of wonder. When everything came together. There was no pain and things kept getting better for me. It was my rebirth. Almost as a natural conclusion to that period of time, I saw the magical spring evening when I met (my husband.) No, nothing makes a dark night of the soul “worth” anything. I’ll never be happy or grateful to have felt that much darkness and pain. No matter how much growth came later. However, I saw clearly, every time I believed that my life was over – I not only survived but went on to become my best self. Each of my rebirths has been better than the last. Today, the magic weighs more than the dark night. I blasted the song “In The House of Stone and Light” on the way home from therapy. My anthem of 25. It’s true to me again.
May 21,2019
“I am unlovable.” After several successful weeks of EMDR on less treacherous subjects, we moved on to one of my bigger injuries. The belief that, deep down inside, I am unlovable. Those who I’ve let in far enough have seen it and have left me. I pretend to be a better version of myself than I am, to keep people in my life. That’s a deep wound, when someone you feel very close to rejects you. Those you hold the deepest have the ability to cause the most damage. Naturally. This must be my fault. It must be what they saw.
There were the very predictable scenes. Things, people, situations I would have been surprised to not see. I have always felt less-than in being unable to release these specific people. I know now, it was because the first didn’t heal correctly and, even not wanting to be in a situation like that ever again, I almost set myself up to do it. Trying to make it right. Because it was familiar. I saw all the things I expected to see.
Then things changed. I saw the acts of love and kindness shown to me in my most broken times. I did not see it till today, but when I’ve been the most broken is also when I have been the most unable to hide my true self. It has been out there for all to see, blatantly. While I tried so hard to protect others from seeing my true nature, I completely missed the fact that it was seen. It was seen absolutely by those who remained when I have been at my darkest. And they did not turn away from me. I saw Grandma again, so vividly that I could smell the inside of her house. She was caring for me each weekend when my heart was breaking. I would travel up to see her. I knew there was safety for me if only I could reach her. It was so good to see her again. I saw the flowers my parents sent me during some very difficult days. I saw my dad and I in a car dealership parking lot, walking from car to car. Him saying, I want you to start dreaming again, Kayla. I saw my friend, who was a new mother at the time, asking me to come spend the night during a difficult time and listening to me for hours. I saw a group of women that would help me through my secondary infertility and difficult time when we left Kansas City. I saw (my husband) holding me as I cried. It could have been any number of times he’d done this, but I saw us in Alton. I saw the group of women I became close friends with there. I saw myself at one of our summer pool parties, kids swimming and all the moms talking and laughing.
I am not Kayla, the unlovable, at all. I am Kayla, the most loved.
January 29, 2020
“Back at EMDR today, finally, after having to take several months off to deal with my depressive episode. I was glad (therapist) agreed that I was stable enough to start again. Today I had a really bizarre thing happen. I saw another me in my memories. Me as the age I was in the memory and another, older me. (I would later come to refer to this “me” as Scarlet Darker.) I had remembered an incident when I was young and my back was to an adult that meant to do me harm. We went a few more cycles then (therapist) asked me to return to the memory of being young, with danger behind me. Instead of my younger self, though, I saw Scarlet Darker, facing this person . She had him by the shirt collar and was staring him down. He was cowering in front of her. I then saw her again, on the empty playground in Aurora (CO) holding hands with my 7-year-old self. This is a significant thing, because I changed a lot from age 7 to age 10. From life experiences that caused me to change how I felt about myself. My 7 year old Kayla, though, tearing around the playground, legs covered with bruises. So self-confident. Just herself, no other worries. Seeing the two of them together was so heart warming. I saw the two of them making a bridge. Between them were all the other Kayla’s who were just trying to do the best they could, burdened by their unhealed traumas. The two of them, though, healed bookends. Together again. (Therapist) says she doesn’t find this unusual. Since we are simulating somewhat of a dream state to begin with, my brain is just making connections again. Scarlet Darker is not the person I am becoming, she is the personification of my hope. My justice. An altered perception. I already thought EMDR was out there. Now I’m seeing extra people too. It’s OK. Whatever it is, it’s working.
Epilogue:
EMDR has been a crazy ride. The most effective therapy model I have ever undertaken, each 90 minute session offering equal insight and resolution to six months of traditional therapy. I appreciate those who smile and nod as I tell my stories. It has brought me more healing and light than I ever imagined possible. It has brought an incredible amount of change into my life.
Scarlet Darker has continued to appear in every EMDR session since I saw her the first time. Always wearing a short white dress, red heels and a stacked bob. She is altering my memories. She is dispensing justice. I’ve watched her sucker punch people or say exactly the right words when a younger me was struck mute, I’ve saw her walk down halls of places I’ve lived, to curled up Kayla’s on couches, beds and floors. I’ve seen her grab and shake them. I watched her tell my 22 year old self – get up. I’ll be back in 10 minutes, we’re leaving, be ready to go. She then marched down the stairs, middle finger held high to anyone who was looking and up the stairs of another apartment building. She delivered a message I couldn’t in the way that I was unable, then. She’s come up off of exam tables, breaking noses. I watched her literally burn a bridge, Angela Basset style, with gasoline and a lit cigarette. Middle finger held high above the flames for the person on the other side. She’s a total bad-ass. I love her. She has no fear.
I’m not done yet. My therapist and I are working on the last traumas I sense within me. Even they have already been reduced by processing the traumas that came before them. I’m almost there. And when I say I feel like myself for the first time in a really long time. You can believe me.
“If you think I’m pretty, you should see me in a crown.” – Billie Eilish
