Looking around the provincial Emergency Operations Centre (EOC), I noticed the steady, chaotic hum. But what struck me most was the people. They weren’t overwhelmed or on edge. They looked almost relaxed, some even a little giddy, as if they had reached a kind of calm within the storm.

It wasn’t until the peak of the event passed that something shifted. As things slowed and people began to disperse, a restlessness settled over the room. I remember thinking, what weirdos. They seemed to thrive on chaos.

It’s late, and the house is quiet. You turn off the TV and get ready to wind down, but then a thought slices through that moment. A conversation from work plays back in your mind. A comment that “shouldn’t” have bothered you keeps echoing. Moments later, the weight of every time you felt not good enough is sitting on your chest.

It’s as if your brain has a file open that won’t close and the system is crashing.

You leave your EMDR session and sit in your car for a minute. Something shifted, but it’s hard to explain how. There were images you didn’t expect. Feelings that came in waves. At one point, you lost track of what you were thinking. It all felt a little scattered and nothing like the talk therapy you’ve been used to.

EMDR doesn’t just involve talking about memories, it activates the way those memories are stored in the brain. Images, emotions, body sensations, and beliefs can surface all at once while the brain momentarily treats the memory as if it’s occurring now. This is why EMDR can feel powerful, and even messy.