Existentialism vs Mysticism: What is the Ego Self Axis?

Existentialism vs Mysticism: What is the Ego Self Axis?

In the first session when I give patients my initial observations they often have difficulty hearing what I mean regarding their emotional experience. I hear things like: “I’m not angry because I’ve also done bad things to people and everyone makes mistakes.” “I’m not sad because I know it happened for the greater good.”  “I’m not afraid because I know that it can’t hurt me.” These statements are not attempts to feel emotion, they are attempts to turn emotion off. These statements are attempts to solve and...

Why are Trauma Patients Afraid of Space

Why are Trauma Patients Afraid of Space

Our phobias are often metaphors for our most unconscious parts of self. In the 2013 movie Gravity, Sandra Bullock plays an astronaut marooned in space. At every moment she is seconds from spinning into the hopeless oblivion of deep space. Bullock’s character must use her ingenuity to navigate the shuttles and space stations to find her way back to earth. During her time in space Bullock is haunted by trauma from her past. Numerous shots suggest that her time in space causes her to regress to infancy and face not...

New Podcast Episode: Living on the Inside of History

We must become "unstuck" from our present time if we ever want to just stop simply existing and decide what the purpose of our existence is. We do not get to choose the times we are born into or how much time we are given. Find more @ https://gettherapybirmingham.com/ “For the whole earth is the tomb of famous men; not only are they commemorated by columns and inscriptions in their own country, but in foreign lands there dwells also an unwritten memorial of them, graven not on stone but in the hearts of men. Make...

New Podcast Episode: Brainspotting Changed my Life

  Yellow garden spiders have a fat yellow abdomen slicked with yellow and black stripes. They weave a tiny white squiggle in the center of their webs. I stare at the faintly milky zig zag as it sways when wind moves the web and stirs the iris sepals it hangs between in my mothers garden. I am biting on the seam of injection molded red plastic in a 1980s baby walker. I ponder the way that Alabama red clay cakes in the grooves of my tennis shoe and poke it with a stubby finger and later a small twig. My dreams...