Soni's Spark Shack

December 11, 2025
I had EMDR on Tuesday, and today I feel a little low.
Last night brought some intense dreams—nothing comforting, nothing gentle. They lingered long after I woke up around 4 a.m. I stayed in bed until 5:30, staring at the dark, letting the quiet sit heavy on my chest. I wasn’t sure why I felt sad, and that bothered me almost as much as the sadness itself.
I like understanding things. I like being able to trace feelings back to their source, label them, make sense of them. This morning, that wasn’t possible. And that’s uncomfortable for me.
My thoughts looped endlessly—circling EMDR, replaying the session, trying to logically grasp how it all works. I know, intellectually, that it has something to do with neuroplasticity. The brain rewiring itself. Creating new pathways. Letting old memories lose their charge. But part of me wants to see it happening. I want proof. I want a visual. I want certainty. (And yes, I laughed at myself a little for that.)
The emotional weight felt close enough that I almost reached for a propranolol. I didn’t. I paused instead. I sat with the feeling rather than silencing it. That matters, even if it doesn’t feel like a victory yet.
Maybe this low place isn’t a setback. Maybe it’s part of the process—evidence that something is shifting beneath the surface, even if I can’t name it or understand it yet. Healing doesn’t always feel light or hopeful. Sometimes it feels foggy. Sometimes it feels tender. Sometimes it feels like standing in the middle of something unfinished.
Today, I’m choosing to trust that my brain is doing what it needs to do—even when my mind wants explanations it can’t have yet.
And for now, that is enough.