It was the end of 2019, I was awash in all the mixed emotions of my father’s death. And boom, enter the Pandemic of COVID-19. Abruptly, the entire world was invaded, shrouded by this strange new and seemingly unreal force. Suddenly we were all learning a new language of “shelter in place,” “social distancing”, “don’t touch your face!”, “don’t touch anyone!” Obsessive hand washing… When the mayor of San Francisco announced the first stay-at-home order and predicted two weeks., I thought she must be kidding! I wasn’t going to do that, stay home for two weeks?! I was a “health care provider,” an “essential worker.” Little did I know… The next morning when I was one of almost zero cars on the bridge heading for the office, I paranoically flashed my attention back and forth to the rearview, scanning for KGB-like cops who would pull me over for being “out.” All the things we all had to do, like stay home, stay away from other people; and people dying by the thousands and then millions each day, all inspired my conspiracy suspicions at least at first.
Struggling at that time, to finish the book I was working on… I was seriously dysregulated. My therapist of many decades had recently retired, and I was not about to search for someone else. Besides, the very idea of virtual therapy sessions, our only option now, was seriously out of the question. I remember calling neuroscience-of-trauma researcher and expert, Ruth Lanius, to consult about something or other, and I don’t remember how it came up; she told me perchance about a new-to-me treatment modality she was researching: Deep Brain Re-orienting (DBR), developed by Scottish psychiatrist Frank Corrigan. I had not heard of him before. Ruth directed me to a couple of YouTube videos (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wijwwMuONFg) which I promptly watched. My interest was definitely piqued.
I had not encountered a new trauma treatment, with the exception of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy (which of course I could not practice) since I trained in neurofeedback in 2009. As it turned out while navigating a transition to a full virtual psychotherapy practice during lockdown; (not to mention the transition to lockdown itself!) and writing a book, I was realistically not in a position to study a new-to-me treatment modality (although admittedly it took a little while to achieve the frazzled humility to accept that.) But it was a relief to have my curiosity and interest awakened about something new.
I might add that the complicated grief, some version of writer’s block, and my complex challenges around sleep seemed to all have coagulated in my neck and shoulders, and upper back. It seemed I was cringing inward from all directions, with my neck perennially kinked and aching. And for the first time probably ever, I actually admitted I was bone, dead tired.
On the suggestion of Ruth L., I contacted Frank. Not yet accustomed to zooming, certainly not internationally, his Scotland and my San Francisco, USA time zones, were no small feat to coordinate then. But we managed to cobble together a schedule where I could meet with him for online DBR sessions roughly every other week, a schedule which we succeeded in keeping for some months. I feel very privileged that I had the opportunity to work with Frank, to learn about and experience this fascinating work, and no less with the Master himself! Although I made it my intention to study and practice DBR, especially because unlike neurofeedback it could in fact be practiced remotely, sadly I am unable to do that effectively until I clear the decks of my schedule, at least a bit! Sigh…
DBR
Working with Frank was like working with a gentle giant. The tall, soft-spoken man on my screen, was so kind and patient, that already was reassuring and regulating. His strong accent, even if different, reminded me of my beloved Australian YouTube cheesemaking teacher, a soothing association. And knowing my interests, he made a yeoman’s effort to be both didactic as well as therapeutic. I appreciated that even if my addled brain was hard-pressed to metabolize brain science at that time, which even in the best of times is not my strongest suit! That is why I am gratified that he has a new book, about to hit the stands, provisionally entitled Deep Brain Reorienting: Understanding the Neuroscience of Trauma, Attachment Wounding, and DBR Psychotherapy., co-authored by Hannah Young and Jessica Christie-Sands.
As I experienced the work, at least initially, it was reminiscent of the “sensorimotor sequencing” I learned in my Sensorimotor Psychotherapy training back in 2000, which was essentially a fine-tuned tracking of sensation in the body when in an activated trauma state. I always found that exquisitely helpful, and it was perhaps the most important to me of the many treatment tools I took away from SP. Especially in the closely monitored tracking, the movement in the body from moment to moment conveyed the visceral experience of time passing, and change happening constantly within time, both invaluable in the face of the strange both unmoving and lightening-speed hyperarousal of time in the traumatized body.
As in SP, Frank’s voice was a steady accompaniment, naming brain areas, that I was hard-pressed to grasp mentally then, but I think I would be more able to now. However, one of the essential innovations of DBR, is that although most of us who consider ourselves to be trauma and neglect informed, and attachment theory savvy, are familiar with the activations of the limbic brain, most specifically the right amygdala, in the traumatic fear response, few of us are well versed in the deeper more primitive brainstem regions, often somewhat pejoratively referred to as the “reptilian brain.” (I suppose some are fonder of reptiles than I!) DBR teaches us that the very earliest responses to shock and terror occur in these deep brain regions: the locus coeruleus, superior colliculi, and the periaqueductal grey (oy vey! A mouthful!). The experiences of irregularity, absence and loss of attachment, register in the infant’s brain as “shock” and strike those primitive structures first. He describes this as attachment shock, such an apt and vivid description of some of the profound attachment trauma of certainly many if not most of my neglect survivor clients, not to mention myself. Of course, the neck and shoulders, and the upper back, body areas that house or are in close proximity to those brain areas- precisely the areas that were aching in my stressed-out body, are more than likely to be activated.
Validation
Frank’s voice and steady naming of what he observed, both grounded and accompanied me as I followed the sensation moving in my body, often eliciting unexpected memory fragments from early ages. It was quite fascinating and most certainly valuable. We only discontinued the sessions because scheduling became impossible. I am sure I will go back to it when I can. Meanwhile, the research produced by Ruth L.’s lab is promising indeed, and as a neglect-informed, attachment-oriented practitioner it behooves me to learn it as soon as I can. Admittedly I suffer from FOMO, as DBR has gone viral in my neurofeedback community and is appearing to be a powerful companion treatment. Thankfully I can tide myself over with Frank’s upcoming book.
I find it validating that the framing of the terror and horror wrought by early dysregulations: of attachment: disconnections, withdrawal, absence and loss, add up to shock, especially occurring during the tender vulnerability of early life. The severity of neglect trauma, so often under-rated, ignored and minimized, is increasingly growing its neuroscience “legs,” and may come increasingly to garner the attention it requires and merits, at least gradually in the trauma field. Perhaps neglect will emerge a bit more from its “step-child” status. That is my hope. Meanwhile, I am hoping to meet the “Gentle Giant” in person next fall, when I return to Oxford. I figure Scotland will be a much smaller pond away!
Today’s Song:
