Warning: I tend to wax lyrical a bit at the end of this post.
I am constantly researching therapy styles. For me they have to be practical and offer something more than the ones that I already do for me to get really interested.
I was drawn to Integral Eye Movement Therapy (IEMT) when I saw it demonstrated on a friend. She isn’t the sort of person who will pretend that something works when it doesn’t and the demonstrator helped her with a painful memory and reduced it. It showed an immediate and noticeable change in the body language of my friend and she said afterwards that it really did reduce the memory to the state where it didn’t bother her any more.
I signed up for the training, it isn’t cheap doing training which is why I don’t do it just for the sake of it. As always when doing training the therapists work on each other. We have to admit to all sorts of things, in some cases they have to be trivial because we just run out of things to fix. The IEMT training is very specific, rule number one no disclosure, rule number two No disclosure, well you get the idea. We weren’t allowed to tell each other about the issues that we were dealing with. That’s the whole beauty of IEMT. The therapist doesn’t need to know about the issue. So we worked through all sorts of things not really knowing what we were helping each other with.
I will admit that there were times when I was tired, sitting late at night that odd thoughts from the past and the present crept in to my mind. In some ways they were such simple things that during the day didn’t bother me at all, but at night they really found a way to upset me. Maybe it’s the dark and the loneliness that it brings, I don’t know. I worked on all these little memories at my IEMT course. It was hard to work out at the time whether they had really gone or not because they were only troublesome at night.
I had a night where I stayed up doing some work and was tired and it was late. I finished the work and sat there. It sounds cliche’d but I sat there waiting for the thoughts to come and bother me. But they didn’t. It feels really odd for that to happen to me. Sitting there expecting to berate myself with thoughts and memories, and they didn’t come.
When it happens now I get a moment of mental silence that still surprises me. An emptiness without malice.