This first session was a getting-to-know-you, but my real goal was to dive into EMDR

“Welcome” Gail extended her hand. “Have a seat.” I raised an eyebrow. The choice of seats were several beanbags and a large Indian rung. Lowering myself carefully onto a beanbag, I took in Gail’s office. The new-age crystals and batiks decorating the walls seemed like a foreign world to me. But she came highly recommended by Chaya, our support group leader, and I was determined to see this through. This first session was a getting-to-know-you, but my real goal was to dive into EMDR.

As we spoke, I tried to focus on the details that most disturbed me. “The irony is,” I struggled to find a comfortable spot in the beanbag, “that when I applied for Chezky’s group-home placement, I was at the lowest I’d ever been, coming on the heels of his psychotic episodes. But — and here’s the important part — it’s been two years, and he’s never had another attack since! If I’d known he’d be stable like this, I never would’ve agreed to out-of-home placement!”

I paused, to gauge her reaction. I know how Layee, my long-term therapist, has responded to this thought, which had been festering in me. She felt that the irony had been bashert. That Hashem knew I’d never agree to this placement, so He orchestrated that “end-of-my-rope” to do what was best for Chezky.

Gail, however, was obviously not Layee. She flipped her long fall behind one shoulder and spoke softly while staring deep into my eyes. “Run with that thought,” she encouraged.

Run with it? To where? I was stuck here!

“This is where we’ll do the EMDR work,” she promised. “You need to embrace this thought and see what your choices are.”