EMDR

Some weeks ago I went through (another) moment of mental crisis, but one that was a little different from the difficult moments of grief that I've had previously. The 'crisis' came to a head while I was out cycling, something which normally relaxes me. But during this ride, as my mind flicked from one problem to another, I started getting more and more wound up. I felt like circumstances were conspiring to box me in, giving me no room for maneuver. I started to feel emotionally claustrophobic. It seemed that the only decisions that were available to me were dramatic ones, decisions that would result in cataclysmic change. 

It was a hard moment and, in the days that followed, I realized that I really have no coping strategy for these circumstances. To return to an analogy, I felt that I was/am still lost at sea, struggling just to keep my nose above water. I realized that it was time that I learned to swim, that I did something to try and do more than merely survive the grief and it's consequences. I had in mind trying something like "Mindfulness" training. 

I discussed this with the Homeopath and she recommended going to see a local psychologist who also happens to do Mindfulness training. So in the last few weeks I have been to see this lady a couple of times. The first two sessions were "orientation", telling her Kay's story, etc. I have avoided going see 'new' people since Kay's death simply because the emotional cost of telling Kay's story to a stranger is so high. It took a huge amount of emotional energy to tell her about Kay and everything else and I came out of both of these sessions completely exhausted.


At the end of the second session the psychologist told me that she had concluded that I could benefit from Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) treatment. We then made a series of appointments for the treatment, the first of which was last Monday lunchtime. EMDR involves facing one's most painful memories of an event and, effectively, rubbing one's nose in it until it's not painful anymore. This is obviously merely my explanation of the experience of having EMDR, the link gives a more accurate description.

Before the first EMDR treatment I really had no idea what it would involve or how difficult/easy it would be. I tend to naturally take a cynical view of this kind of thing - I mean, how can simply listening to a "ticking" sound alternating between one's left and right ear have any effect on one's emotional balance? Thus I expected the treatment to be 'superficial', shall we say?

In the event it was anything but superficial. It was a very hard, harrowing experience that left me feeling emotionally bankrupt for days afterward. I confronted the hardest and most painful memory of Kay's last days and had to repeatedly describe how I felt and what I remembered. I had to follow where these thoughts took me and I every now and again I had to return to the root memory and repeat the process. And all the while listening to the ticking sound in my ears. I cannot begin to describe how extremely hard this was, words do not suffice. The treatment lasted 90 minutes, but it felt like no more than 15 of the worst minutes that you can imagine. I came out of it completely exhausted and disoriented, so much so that I simply went home, lay on the bed and fell asleep.

The effects of the treatment lasted for days. I felt flattened, unable to emotionally respond to people and events around me. I think that it took about 3 days before my feelings started to return to normal again. (And in these three days I had to make four presentations to Venture Capitalists, which added another dimension of challenge to the whole thing).

The effect of the treatment is difficult to determine. This particular memory of Kay no longer carries the emotional overload that it previously had, which is the primary goal of the exercise and a good thing. However, EMDR is supposed to also "create more emotional space" in one's mind and result one's head being a more peaceful place. I can't say that I have noticed this effect. But then I suspect that there are so many painful memories and there's so much going on in my head that it's premature to expect a broader improvement in my state of mind.

Tomorrow I have the second treatment and, to be honest, this time I'm scared stiff by the idea. I know what is coming and just how hard it is and just how much I'm going to suffer during the treatment and how bad I'm going to feel in the days after. I almost feel like begging the psychologist to do something else. I'd rather go back and repeat the cancer treatment that I had on my back a couple of months ago, where they burned away my skin. That would be preferable to the mental pain that EMDR evoked. But I also suppose that this is a prime example of "no pain, no gain".

Bring it on.