Rooted, I used to think.

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The Time In-between Jobs - Friday, May. 06, 2022
The Sun Run - Sunday, Apr. 24, 2022
Change - Sunday, Apr. 17, 2022
Job Interview - Friday, Apr. 15, 2022
Angry - Tuesday, Apr. 12, 2022

Wednesday, Apr. 06, 2022 @ 10:56 am

Yesterday, in my second counselling session, my therapist started EMDR. From what I’ve read, there are usually several months of work leading up to doing EMDR. She said that I’m already highly somatic and ready for it.

This idea that I’m faster than everyone else fits into my high achievement personality, but at the same time I wonder if I present as a high achiever when really I’m just good at acting like a high achiever.

The first treatment was like edging the corner of a scab off a wound, only to discover a hot sear of pain and see the bright dot of blood appear. Frantically pressing the scab back down and applying pressure, hoping that it will affix itself.

Afterwards, I was exhausted.

At the climbing gym later that afternoon, I zoned out into a trance while belaying, my body mechanically pulling the rope through the device, hand over hand, my eyes glazed and my mind vacant. I hung at difficult problems, my head against the wall, barely caring about continuing on.

Cycling home slowly, Russell turning around in his seat wondering why I’d dropped off my usual pace.

Not finishing dinner. Him rubbing my back while I rested my head on my arm, my meal pushed aside on the table. Going to bed before 10pm.

My sleep was different, though. I woke up feeling better.

Roots | Shoots