I have no idea whether anyone else has blogged about their experiences of EMDR. I had my first proper session this morning. The doctor (who is lovely) said it went well. I was left exhausted, frankly. I feel as if I have been hit by a ten tonne truck that hit me so hard it sent me careening into outer space. There’s a sadness, but mostly just a kind of blank tiredness.
I need to work on my ‘happy place’, I was told. It’s not some wishy-washy, fluffy bunny rubbish. It’s a genuine tool that has to go alongside the EMDR. In as much as the brain is stimulated to relive the traumatic events in order to reprocess them so that they’re no longer present in the form of crippling flashbacks, etc., so I have to choose a place which I can practice imagining being in as a way to combat the stress and distress of the treatment. It has to be somewhere where I am alone and it has to be somewhere safe.
My ‘safe place’ is St. Julian’s church in Norwich, or a version of it that exists in my memory. I don’t live close enough to go there physically, but I couldn’t think of anywhere more comforting than the place where Lady Julian lived, and where God has moved and breathed through the generations. Thinking of it makes me recall the famous quote from Julian: ‘All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.’
I hope to go back there in real life in the not too distant future. For now, God is leading me. He’s not carrying me, but I know He’s there. I know I am walking in His will and in His love. For this I am grateful. Forgive me if this is not a very coherent post. I really do feel like I’ve been knocked into next Christmas!