Discombobulated. That’s the word that comes to mind when trying to describe how I feel now at this point in my EMDR journey. The word just sounds right. It’s one of those words that just saying it (or trying to spell it) makes you feel, well…discombobulated. Its definition states, “to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate”, which pretty much sums up where I’m at right now. I feel that I’ve progressed and regressed at the same time; two steps forward, two steps back. Or, could it possibly be I’ve been at the same point this whole time and just feel exhausted, not willing to accept that I haven’t moved at all – explaining why I look down and still see myself standing on square one?
What I know for sure is that something is different. There is a calm I have now which appears to be a good thing, but I’m not convinced it’s real. I’m a known pessimist so this view shouldn’t be surprising, yet this actually feels very glass-half-full. This is strange to me because normally at this point I’m looking for my second round and now it seems like I can’t get there because I’m too busy enjoying the first half of my drink. At the same time, my anxiety seems to be all over the place; high/low, big/small. I feel like I’m yelling and screaming but trapped inside a giant Zen ball. It’s as if I’m trapped inside Buddha’s belly.
My therapist told me that I’d by hypersensitive during this process and I am starting to see what she meant. This may explain the extreme calm and anxiety spikes occurring almost simultaneously. The silver lining is that things are moving, or at least something is happening. What worries me is if I’m playing a zero-sum game or is this shake-up of emotions leading me to a better place. As I stated earlier, I still feel like I’m on square one, but it’s still early, very early actually, in this journey. I’m still optimistic, but patience has never been a virtue of mine unfortunately. I feel like the character from an old cartoon my mom had clipped out years ago, “Lord, grant me patience…but please hurry.”
One positive theme through this though is that I’m still on board, still along for the ride. I’ll just feel better once I have some more concrete wins under my belt. However, I’ve always looked for the concrete wins, the black and white, the sure thing; that’s what quiets the anxiety. That line of thinking though has gotten me to this point – way down the road, discombobulated. Which leads me to what honestly scares me the most. What if “wins” aren’t so concrete at all, what if happiness is the gray? This leads me to my biggest fear, the biggest question of all: How does someone know what the gray looks like if they’ve always lived in a black and white world?
The journey continues…