What if your brain refused to let the past stay in the past?
That’s what trauma often feels like—memories ambush you, no matter how much time has passed. It’s a pattern I’ve battled with for years, but my journey with EMDR therapy has shown me that healing doesn’t mean erasing the past. It means turning the page.
Since last week’s blog post about letting go of "if only," I’ve been musing more about leaving the past where it belongs. One memory bubbled up from childhood: my deep, almost obsessive love for clean, perfect notebooks.
I couldn’t stand mistakes. If I messed up a page, I’d rip it out. But seeing the jagged edge drove me crazy, so I’d rip out the opposite page to make it balance. Before I knew it, the notebook was a skinny, dog-eared pamphlet instead of the beautiful journal I’d envisioned. I was convinced I couldn’t move on unless I removed every trace of the mistake.
As it turns out, I carried that thinking into adulthood. Whenever painful memories surfaced, I felt stuck on a messed-up page, trying to scribble today’s experiences in the margins of yesterday’s chaos. My instinct was to rip out the bad days—to live in denial that they happened. But that wasn’t working so well for me. The past doesn’t disappear because we wish it would. I needed to be able to see my earlier chapters without getting trapped re-reading them. I needed to open a fresh page. And that’s what EMDR helped me do.
When the Past Feels Like the Present
Trauma has this horrible way of making the past feel like it’s happening right now. A smell, a sound, a situation—and suddenly, you’re back in it, feeling the same panic, fear, or helplessness as before. It’s as if your brain refuses to file the memory under "past." Instead, it flies around, raw and unprocessed, ready to ambush you at any moment.
In 2020, an occupational health psychologist diagnosed me with complex PTSD. My symptoms weren’t tied to one event but instead stemmed from multiple overlapping traumas. I had assumed my mental health struggles were solely due to my friend’s suicide. But when I started the EMDR preparatory work, I realised there was so much more.
One memory stood out: when my son Ethan was newborn, he started crying in a way that didn’t feel right. I called the doctor’s surgery and tried to explain that my baby was ill. The receptionist wasn’t exactly helpful—“babies cry” and “there are no appointments”. Deep down, I knew something was seriously wrong.
Within hours, we were in an ambulance, lights and sirens blaring. My tiny baby lay limp and blotchy, suffering from sepsis. The following weeks were a blur of hospital machines, fear, and exhaustion. We nearly lost him.
Even after Ethan recovered, I didn’t. Every time one of my boys got sick, I spiraled into full-blown panic. My body reacted like I was back in that ambulance, standing between my children and disaster. It was exhausting, unsustainable, and—objectively—not true.
How EMDR Helped Me
By the time I was offered EMDR—Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing—I was reeling from the aftermath of my friend's death. Sceptical but willing to try, I learned that EMDR doesn’t erase memories. Instead, it helps your brain file them where they belong: in the past. The process allowed me to turn the page without ripping it out.
During therapy, I recalled traumatic memories while engaging in bilateral stimulation—following my therapist’s moving finger with my eyes. This helped my brain reprocess the memories so they were no longer raw and overwhelming. Instead of reliving the trauma, I simply remembered it.
The Science Behind EMDR
The leading theory behind EMDR is the Adaptive Information Processing model. Trauma disrupts your brain’s ability to process and store memories properly. Instead of neatly filing them away, the memories remain raw and unprocessed, making you feel stuck in the past.
EMDR "unsticks" these memories. Bilateral stimulation—whether through eye movements, tapping, or sound—engages both brain hemispheres, allowing the memory to be reprocessed and reducing its emotional intensity. While some researchers debate how it works, studies consistently show it is effective.
As trauma expert Bessel van der Kolk explains in The Body Keeps the Score:
"Trauma results in a fundamental reorganisation of the way mind and brain manage perceptions. It changes not only how we think and what we think about, but also our very capacity to think."
EMDR helps restore that capacity.
Turning the Page on Trauma
So, did EMDR magically erase my trauma?. No, and it certainly wasn’t easy, but it gave me the tools to turn the page.
I still feel anxious when my loved ones get sick, but it’s manageable now. I no longer feel like I’m trapped in that hospital room, fighting for my son’s life. The past is in the past, where it belongs.
Just like my old notebooks, my life has messy pages. But I’ve learned I don’t need to tear them out. They’re part of my story—and my story is still being written.
What about you? What’s your next page going to say? If you’ve tried EMDR or have thoughts on trauma and healing, I’d love to hear your story. I’m also open to answering any questions. My biggest hope is to be of some help.