This past Saturday, at least fifteen thousand people marched through downtown Montpelier, Vermont, in the name of women’s rights, human rights, compassion, unity, and equality. I was among the thousands who sloshed through mud puddles and climbed over snow banks, each one of us determined to stamp out hatred and bigotry.

I’m not one for crowds, especially large crowds; if you have an anxiety disorder, like PTSD, you know what I mean. But I packed my Xanax – just in case – and drove the 40 miles with my step-daughter (thank you Rachel for being there with me) from Burlington to Montpelier, waited in five-miles of backed up traffic on the interstate before making an illegal U-turn (I can’t tell you how good it felt to break the law!) so we could exit onto an alternate route leading into town, then parked a mile from the state house. From there, Rachel and I took our first steps toward the center of inclusivity: the golden-domed state house.

Montpelier may be the smallest capital in the nation, but our voices here in Vermont are far from small. Yesterday, as we marched together, thousands waved signs reading, “Yes we still can … We should all be feminists … We the people … complacency is complicity.” We sang and chanted and shouted against oppression and injustice. We spoke out loud for what is right: helping the homeless and the poor, treating with dignity women, people of color, Hispanics, Jews, Muslims, gays, LGBQTs, the young and the old. And the disabled.

I give the disabled a sentence of its own, not because I believe they’re superior to others; I do so because I know too many disabled people, mostly those who have sustained traumatic brain injuries (TBI) and are now living with chronic side-effects, such as vision difficulties, chronic anxiety, sleep disorders, and rip-roaring headaches. Due to their injuries, some find it difficult to engage in substantial gainful activity, a social security disability insurance (SSDI) term meaning your medical condition prevents you from doing more than “insignificant” work. And if your disability prevents you from working twenty hours or more a week, the typical threshold for receiving employer-based benefits, this likely outcome is this: no health insurance. With the enactment of the Affordable Care Act, though, those with disabilities had options, and they didn’t have to worry about being discriminated against for having a pre-existing condition (a TBI for instance). The ACA offered increased accessibility to community health centers, and enacted a provision that axed annual and life time limits – a godsend for people with disabilities. For those who receive SSDI and Medicare under the program’s guidelines, they are (or should I say “were?”) protected.

But it’s 2017, and winter has arrived. “He who must not be named” plans to eviscerate the ACA, with no alternative other than the ambiguous executive order he signed just hour after he was inaugurated directing federal agencies to relieve individuals, state governments, businesses, and health insurance companies from “burdens” placed on them by the ACA.

Whatever that means? In the meantime, there are nearly 50 million people in the U.S. who have a disability, and about 8.8 million who receive SSDI benefits. Though “he who must not be named” promises Medicare for All, this is sheer talk from a man who, well, likes to talk. And, of course, “he” has to deal with the Republican controlled congress. What do the millions receiving Medicare under SSDI benefits – and those sixty-five and older – have to look forward to?

I wish I had a magic wand to make it all better, but I don’t. Yet, I do have my voice. I share my voice with you, sing and chant and cheer for you, keeping in mind the words that Martin Luther King Jr. spoke in 1965: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.”

The more we speak, the louder we speak, “about the things that matter,” the closer we come together, marching forward toward human progress and shaping a world in which every single one of us matters.

In the wake of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, we’ve learned more about post-traumatic stress disorder. But have you heard about post-traumatic growth (PTG)? Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun, psychologists at the University of North Carolina in Charlotte, conceived the concept in the 1990s. PTG involves a positive psychological change that occurs after experiencing a traumatic event. PTG can be measured through what is called the PTG inventory. But each one of us copes differently, and who is likely to experience PTG depends on several factors, such as personality traits, mood, and gender. http://www.posttraumaticgrowth.com/what-is-ptg/

If you are interested in learning more about PTG, consider reading What Doesn’t Kill Us: A Guide to Overcoming Adversity and Moving Forward by Stephen Joseph: http://www.profstephenjoseph.com/

Here are some other resources that might be of interest:

Post-Traumatic Growth: Positive Changes in the Aftermath of Crisis. Richard Tedeschi, Crystal Park, Lawrence Calhoun. March 1998.

Super Survivors: The Surprising Link Between Suffering and Success. David B Feldman and Lee Daniel Kravetz. June 2014.

American Psychological Association: www.apa.org/post traumatic growth

My EMDR treatments for PTSD  included Cognitive Feedback Therapy, which focuses on the individual’s thought processes and how they affect behavior and beliefs. For example, it did not take much for my mind to swirl with negative thoughts when my husband traveled out of town for music gigs. I imagined him sprawled on the side of the road after being hit by a car. At night, I would wake and watch my husband’s chest for movement. In the dark, it was difficult to see if it was rising and falling, so I’d gently lay my hand on his chest, feeling for life. Or I’d snuggle close to him, waiting for him to exhale. These negative thoughts would lead to other negative thoughts or images: sometimes I’d see myself in a hospital bed struggling to breathe, with doctors hovering over me, sticking needles into my arms.

Like any successful project, cognitive therapy involves homework. My therapist instructed me to keep a log of events that triggered negative thoughts, sensations, and emotions. One day, I felt weak and feverish, as if I had the flu. Even though I did not have a fever, I thought something was wrong: I should go to the hospital, because I might have an infection. What if I need antibiotics? What if I don’t go to the hospital? I might die. As a nurse, it was easy for me to scoot down this irrational path. And since my spleen – an organ that destroys bacteria and is part of the immune system – had ruptured in the farmers’ Market accident, I couldn’t help but be anxious about dying from an overwhelming infection. But an uncountable number of people live productive and healthy lives without a spleen. By categorizing my thoughts into what my therapist labeled “faulty thinking patterns,” such as drawing conclusions or exaggerating the meaning of an event, then forming positive ways of thinking, I learned to halt the unraveling of irrational thoughts. I no longer keep a log, though I’m not completely free of negative thoughts and images. Instead, when they intrude on my sleep, or my daytime routine, I envision a huge stop sign. Sometimes I hold my hand up and say, “Stop!” And just like that, I’m unburdened by blackness, screams, and blood.

How exactly does EMDR work? Francis Shapiro, who discovered the treatment, explains it through the theory of the “Adaptive Information Processing Model.” The theory sounds metaphysical, but it’s not. The assumption is that all individuals have an information processing system, which takes our experiences and stores them in a section of our memories that is easily accessible. These experiences are connected to particular images, emotions, sensations, and beliefs.

Think of a computer. If you’re like me, you might have several folders filled with documents dotting your desktop, because you need the information to be readily available – at the click of the mouse. One of those folders might hold information that reminds you of something that evokes negative feelings. For instance, a folder has photos of your deceased parents. Every time you turn on the computer, you see the folder, and images of your parents fighting in front of you when you were a child return. You hear them screaming at one another, one of them saying, “I wish I never had children.” Each time you drag the folder into another one, so you won’t see it, the folder bounces back onto the desktop. Your computer is malfunctioning, so you need to take it to a computer geek.

Of course, we are not computers; we are human beings. Yet, our brains are very much like computers. In PTSD, the trauma – the negative images, emotions, and thoughts – are stuck in the easily accessible part of the brain. The processing system in our brains is working ineffectively, so each time something triggers memories of the trauma, like a car backfiring, you exhibit PTSD symptoms, such as panic. EMDR helps transfer the trauma and related images from your brain’s desktop into the part of the brain, or folder, that effectively processes the event.

When I speak to others about EMDR, they shirk from me, as if suspicious – maybe I’m looking to recruit them into a cult. But EMDR is not a cult at all, I promise.

Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing, or EMDR, was first discovered in 1987 by Psychologist Francis Shapiro.  One day, she felt anxious by negative thoughts, so went for a walk in the woods. Sure, you might say, sounds like a great way to shed some stress – walk it off. But as she moved her eyes from right to left, taking in nature’s greens, yellows, and browns, she noticed that her level of anxiety decreased. She tried a similar eye movement process with her clients, and it worked. They, too, experienced a reduction in anxiety. That’s how EMDR was born. Initially used to treat individuals with PTSD and other anxiety disorders, it is now used to treat other conditions like depression, schizophrenia and eating disorders.

When you cut your finger, cells race to the site and clump together to stop the bleeding. Your body’s nutrients then heal the wound. If it continues to get irritated, it will become inflamed and may open up again. Once the source of irritation is removed, the wound can finally heal. PTSD symptoms are like festering wounds; the goal of EMDR is to remove what is blocking those wounds from healing.

Here’s how EMDR works: The client recalls a vivid image from the trauma experienced, such as a lying on the pavement after being hit by a car while thinking about a negative belief about the self, such as “I’m going to die.” The client notes the visceral sensations and emotions she is experiencing like a tight chest, shortness of breath and increased fear. She then thinks of a positive image like taking a warm bath, then a thought: “I’m safe.” Following this, the client conjures the negative thoughts and images while undergoing 15-20 seconds of bilateral stimulation: lateral eye movements, where the client follows the back and forth movement of the therapist’s fingers. Even though lateral eye movements are the most common form of stimulation, other stimuli may be just as effective, such as tapping or tones. The therapist who treated me used walkie-talkie like devices that vibrated beneath the backs of my thighs.

The same bilateral stimulation is then used while the client focuses on the positive images and thoughts. Over time, these will become embedded in the client’s memory, blocking the negative images and thoughts – the wounds. Eventually, PTSD symptoms will lessen when exposed to sounds, smells, or sights reminiscent of a trauma or threat.

EMDR is different from exposure therapy, which involves prolonged exposure to a stimulus that triggers thoughts, emotions, and sensations about the traumatic event. Some therapists believe that prolonged exposure is necessary to produce effective treatment outcomes. But others believe that this type of therapy will cause fearful memories to outweigh the joyful ones in people who have experienced extreme trauma, then encounter a particularly stressful situation in the future.

http://www.emdr.com