When My World Flipped Upside down, Pt.7
This is from an actual social media post I had made during this era captioned “ When mental health has you down for the day.”
Part seven.
Staring Down the Deep: What is Brainspotting?
If you’re not a "mind-body connection" person, this sounds like absolute wizardry—or just plain weird. I’d describe it as sister technique to EMDR.
My sessions were virtual. I’d get comfy, and my therapist would ask "What is sitting heavy on you right now?"
For this example, let’s go with a classic: "I feel like a bad parent."
The Mapping of the Body
Then comes the odd part. "Where do you feel that in your body?"
At first, I’d sit there wondering if there was a "right" answer. Spoiler alert: there isn’t. But as I focused on that thought of being a "bad parent," a sensation would start to bloom. Maybe its a heavy, cold ball in the very pit of my stomach.
Then, the eye work begins. You keep your head still but shift your light of sight accordingly. Look left. Is the feeling in your stomach more intense, less intense, or the same? Look right. Now straight ahead. We’d test it with the left eye, then the right, then both. Personally, I always felt most grounded staring straight ahead or with my eyes closed. It felt less "weird."
The Tunnel and the Biolateral Beat
Once we found my "spot"—the visual point where that feeling in my stomach felt most connected—I’d put on headphones. A biolateral soundtrack would play, a gentle sound that pans from the left ear to the right, stimulating both hemispheres of the brain at once.
As I stared at my spot, a sense of tunnel vision would set in. I’d fall into this incredibly relaxed, almost trance-like state. And then? Anything could happen.
My brain would start playing a movie I haven’t even experienced. I might be thinking about parenting, but suddenly I’m seeing a sugarplum dancing on the tip of an iceberg. Then, I’m lying in a field of flowers, watching clouds. You can’t make this stuff up.
The Silent Release
What I love most about Brainspotting is that you don't have to talk. Voicing my thoughts has always been a struggle. I’d honestly rather throw a tantrum in the middle of a mall as a 30 something year old than say the words, "I’m sad because you forgot my favorite pen." But in these sessions, I didn't have to find the words. I just had to exist and feel.
By the end of thirty minutes, that heavy pit in my stomach would shift. It might turn into a tingle on my lips or a lightness in my chest. I would say that the answer to what is causing me to feel like a “ bad parent” does not suddenly spring to the mind. But when you’re able to walk away feeling lighter, all of a sudden you’re not paralyzed by the idea that you’re a “bad parent.” And in the days to follow space has been made within your mind to process the why and create a solution.
The Hangover
You’ll read online that people leave these sessions feeling "light and free." That was not particularly my experience. I often left feeling like I’d just run a marathon while grieving a loss. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and moody for a few days.
That’s actually normal. Your brain doesn't stop working when the Zoom call ends; it stays under the hood, unspooling traumatic threads for days afterward.
The Shift
We did this twice a week for about a year, alongside regular therapy, and it was the single biggest stepping stone to who I am today. It made space.
Suddenly, I had room in my mind to consider the "impossible." Daily tasks felt less like mountains. I wasn't as quick to snap at the kids or over-process every tiny interaction with the husband. For the first time, I was seeing the world through my own eyes, not the lens I’d been programmed to use.
Life became easier. Freer. Actually enjoyable.
But clearing the space was only half the battle.
Explained by Neurologist, Dr. Carolyn Taylor
Author - Samantha Mandell, RTT Practitioner
