Dear Therapist, here's what I've worked on

Dear future therapist,

This is what I have been working on since the beginning of 2020. Prior to that, I spent a decade of failed attempts in therapy. Each new therapist engaged only to be quickly I’m healed and fine.

In 2020, I dedicated myself to finding the end. In the sections below, I outline some of the modalities that made the most progress. In between these big moments, I worked with additional tools including:

• Biofeedback

• Safe and Sound Protocol

• Vegus nerve stimulation

• Astrology

• Mantra meditation

• Temezcal sweat lodge

• Taro card

The further and further I go, the more open I am to possibilities, opening myself up to less traditional paths.

EMDR: Hearing my mom from the past

After having an outsized reaction to my step-kid pushing my kid in the pool (gently), my therapist suggested I try EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). It’s essentially using an object that goes back and forth, and you keep your eye on it. During the eye movement, it reprocesses the trauma, turning the volume down on the intensity.

In session, I focused on the sounds of gunfire and bombs going off. I couldn’t tell whether I’m just recalling movies, or if I made it up (that’s my ego speaking). As the intensity of the eye movements increased, the faint noises became louder and I could clearly hear gunfire, explosions, and screaming voices. It was all muffled (because my mom was pregnant with me at the time).

At the climax, I clearly made out a voice, the young voice of my 22-year-old mother.

The reprocessing turned that volume down from 11 to about 2.

Those sounds still hover with me, no longer muffling out the world, but a sweet reminder of the love that my mother had for me, her unborn child.

Psychedelic Therapy: Experiencing Ego Death

Once the volume had turned down, I became more open to exploring this newfound world. It was foreign because what was once so chaotic was now so peaceful, yet something lingered.

With the help of a guide, I drank a tea concoction of 7g of 🍄, a massive dose in hindsight.

My ego held on, trying to vomit it out, and trying to hold on to control as long as possible. It was a little bit of a rough ride, but the medicine was too much, and eventually, my ego died.

The visual and sensory trip ended, and I crossed over into a disassociative world. I was no longer in my body but part of a cosmic reality where time and space co-existed together.

I didn’t find my ancestors as I was hoping for, but the experience increased my reality exponentially. In hindsight, this experience gave me a year to zoom out and see myself with more capacity. Eventually, this faded away, but that year opened up new possibilities.

PBSP: My first psychodrama

My therapist friend dragged me along to an intensive workshop on the Pesso Boyden System Psychomotor (PBSP) method. Through “structures,” or the physical acting and placement of people and objectives in space, we reprocess and create new memories.

This was my first experience in doing group work. Up till this point, everything was 1:1. The power of the group is the witness of your trauma with others, to experience their traumas, to assist in the healing of traumas. Eventually, I would learn to call this the creation of the container.

My structure focused on this point in my school year when I came from after a bad day at school. I had mispronounced some words during reading time, the teacher laughed, and the classroom burst out laughing. It was too much for little me.

I spent the day under the coffee table with stomach pains. No one saw this. We’ll come back to this moment later, but in my structure, I was able to have an ideal mother, who would’ve been there for me, who would’ve seen the pain I was in, and who would’ve supported me.

EMDR: Traveling in time to visit my dad

I visited another therapist to continue my EMDR sessions. This one used buzzers on both hands to create that back-and-forth feeling.

I started with an image of a yellow building with a window. In the building, a man was curled up in the corner, and a larger figure was shadowing him.

As the session continued, there was this magical moment when the feelings intensified. What originally was an image of a painting and strong feelings turned in to reality. The ground turned from office room carpet tiles to cold, dry dirt; the room had a musky smell, and it was dark. A ray of light was shining through the small window, and the shadow swept over me.

I was my dad in a re-education camp after the Vietnam War ended.

EMDR: When my protector took over

In another EMDR session, I walked into the office and said I’m not sure what we’re gonna work on today. I think I’m good. This is my usual path of avoiding the feels.

We honed on into that moment when I was under the coffee table. For most of my life, Lt. Commander Data from Star Trek The Next Generation was my protector. He was the benevolent android that protected me from feelings.

Instead, as we did the session, I felt the fear and terror as my child self let go of control and handed the keys to Data.

He screamed inwardly, and suddenly, it was silent.

Pyschodrama: A container for generational grief

I reluctantly joined another psychodrama workshop hosted by my therapist friend. I had lots of excuses about why I couldn’t make it, but eventually, the calling was too compelling, and I caved.

In the session, I visited the moment when my dad was in re-education camp, which aligned with that moment I gave up control to Data as a kid.

Time isn’t linear.

As the realization of what happened to me, to us, and to the world, the group formed a physical circle around me, giving me room to cry out the cry that was held in for generations. It popped the cap, letting out more than I ever let out.

It was more than me.

It was all the generations before that were not able to grieve their losses.

Coaching: Sitting in my shadows

I worked with a coach (not therapy), to sit with me and witness my shadows. It was the first time where I revealed the darkness beneath me and she was not afraid.

Over the course of several weeks, we touched on taboo topics, revealing bits of ourselves to each other, and confirming that we are enough.

Shaman: Finding my Black Panther

I had the honor and privilege of working with Dr. Jen from Decolonizing Therapy in a live session. She saw that past this business face, I was ready for more than the typical.

She led me through a trace and in that journey, I saw an asian unicorn walk me through the forest. There, I saw the tree, with a dark portal in it. Beyond the tree, two eyes lit up bright yellow and the Black Panther came to me. The unicorn walked away.

I curled up with the panther, her body melding into mine. I didn’t know where I began and where she ended.

Psychodrama: Speaking to my grandfather

I worked with some members of a previous psychodrama and brought along new members. In this group, I found my Black Panther, my soul brother. He sat next to me as I did my session.

In this session, I walked along the journey to see my protectors hold the pain of my past. Data who held the screaming voices of my mother, Dan who holds the shame of my Dad’s imprisonment, and there, facing my oppressor, the colonist, I knelt down on my knees and cried out in anguish. We were defeated, annihilated, and destroyed.

And as the final bit of anguish flooded out of me, I looked up and placed my grandfather. I got to apologize for pushing him away, and never forming a relationship with him.

Lakota Shaman: Working with my totems

I’m working with an Indigenous person to find my spirit animals. I found her in searching for people that work with panther medicine. We drew cards along the four directions.

E: Swan S: Bear W: Woodpecker N: Moose

In each journey, I dig deeper to find that I’ve been here before. There’s a familiarity to it all. I don’t know what this means, but I continue to sit in it.

The journey is the destination

There’s no end to this. It took me a while to understand it, but there will be moments when I flip the script.

My astrology said that my forecast points toward hard times ahead for me, and a transformation to come, one in which I emerge as the wounded healer.

At this point, I’ve learned to let go

and trust

the

universe.