Hi and welcome:
As a memoir writer, I've spent most of my adult life writing about trauma. What I didn't realize was how this process was re-traumatizing me with each word I wrote.
Writing triggered me. I'd feel cold, go into subtle shock, struggle with anxiety or depression. I'd drink. Or rage. Or clam up and retreat. Yet, I pressed on. "I must," I'd tell myself. "I'm a writer. It's what I do." I believed that with each revision, I was inching closer to healing.
I was right, but I was also terribly wrong.
The Vole Invasion: A Turning Point
It started with voles in my garden. These tiny rodents were destroying my carefully nurtured plants, and I became obsessed. I couldn't sleep, couldn't stop researching solutions, couldn't stop talking about voles. This fixation was disproportionate, but it's how I've always coped - clamping my jaws on a crisis and refusing to let go.
People call me perseverant, a survivor. But to me, it's a form of mania that burns like wildfire, resulting in sleeplessness, worry, and fear.
The Body Keeps the Score: A Revelation
While dealing with the vole crisis, I listened to The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk. As I heard about PTSD responses and sufferings, I had to pause frequently, overwhelmed by recognition.
I realized I fit the profile:
Attachment disorder
Early childhood abuse
Hyper vigilance
Tendency to isolate
Explosive anger followed by overwhelming guilt
The Path to Neurofeedback
Van der Kolk's book introduced me to Neurofeedback, a technique that has shown remarkable results in treating PTSD symptoms, especially for those who haven't responded well to talk therapy or medication.
Despite its efficacy, Neurofeedback isn't widely known or accepted. My own therapist hadn't heard of it. But I was desperate for change.
I committed to thirty sessions where, twice a week, I'd sit in a leather chair while a specialist attached electrodes to the right side of my head - the area most affected by childhood trauma.
The process works by allowing the brain to observe its own activity at specific frequencies, stimulating neurons that didn't learn to calm during critical developmental years.
The results were stunning. For the first time, I had a life not defined by fear, worry, and anxiety. I stopped fixating. I slept deeply. I changed.
A New Chapter
While investing in this healing process, I dug out my raised beds, lined them with wire mesh, refilled them with the soil and started over in my now vole-free garden. At the same time, Neurofeedback rewired my brain. Coincidence? Maybe. But at last I found true and lasting healing not through writing and revising my traumas, but through directly addressing the neurological impacts of those traumas.
For memoir writers and trauma survivors, this is crucial to understand: writing about our experiences can be cathartic, but it may not be enough. Sometimes, we need to look beyond the page to find true healing.
If you're struggling with the impacts of trauma, especially if traditional therapies haven't helped, consider exploring Neurofeedback. It changed my life, and it might change yours too.
~ Jennifer, 🐦⬛
NOTE: I urge you to do your research and carefully vet the specialist you find. You can also reach out to Dr.Noel Thomas, a great lady who has years of experience. She will help you find a provider. There’s also van der Kolk’s site with more information here.
Wow. I tried to get my HMO to pay for neurofeedback for my PTSD, but they wouldn’t, and then I gave up. Writing my current book is a long, ongoing trigger. Maybe I’ll look into paying out-of-pocket once I’m in a more financially secure place. Thank you.
Excellent post, Jennifer!