EMDR healed my OCD (and then some).

In my 20s, I developed a pretty intense form of OCD (scrupulosity for the Catholics out there). This was an evolution of ongoing anxiety and panic attacks that started years before.
I was living in Bend, Oregon, totally ungrounded and not knowing what to do in my life... like most 20-somethings. My nights were plagued by either a) drinking, or b) doing my best to think-the-right-thoughts and pray-the-right-way so I would not be possessed by the devil. It was quite challenging. I felt very little self worth, could not sit still for very long, and was so scared all the time.
I began to see a young therapist who worked out of a sweet older house close to Bend downtown. She spoke about an emerging new therapy called EMDR. This was 2006, and the field of psychology was just warming it's feet to the possibility of this technique.
So, I said let's do it.
We first identified 10 memories in my life associated with traumatic events. Anything from a misinterpreted compliment to verbal and physical violence, or worse. I grew up shameful about the poverty we lived in, but had little awareness of where my traumatic memories lived. It took a while to create an authentic list.
We picked a memory with low emotional charge... something that wasn't as impactful in my life. My therapist gave me two pods, one to hold in each hand. Each pod began to vibrate. She asked me to close my eyes and mentally bring up the memory, and watch it occur, almost as if I was a passerby. I spent a few moments, eyes closed, reliving the memory. I didn't feel much emotional pull, but rather, like I was watching a movie about someone else. After a few moments, my therapist brought be back to the room, and we discussed what I experienced. We repeated this a few times, then called it a day.
This first time wasn't super remarkable. I didn't know what to think of it...
In a next session, I chose to jump in the deep end, and work on the memory with the most charge. This particular memory was rooted in the day I helped my Father move out of our home. My parents had chosen to get a divorce, and being the oldest son, I was chosen to help move his boxes into his new place.
The therapist wired me up with pods, set the stage, and I dove in.
I witnessed my 17-year-old self moving my Dad's boxes from our home to a basement bedroom across town. I saw how I didn't know how to be in this new and unfamiliar territory. I saw how relieved I felt that my home wouldn't be plagued by endless fighting anymore. I saw how sad I was of not having my Dad around, and not even knowing what that meant at the time.
I saw my Dad saying some things to me I don't think he really meant to say to me, and then leave me to go home by myself.
As I arrived home in my minds eye, I saw a lonely child, sitting in the center of the home. Not only was my Dad gone, but so was everyone else. My siblings and my Mother all resigned to their own rooms, dealing with their own grief. I was truly alone for the first time in my life.
My therapist had me come back to the room, and discuss. There was a lot of crying and emotional release.
My therapist then instructed me to go back in. I was there again, seeing my 17-year-old self. My therapist asked me to enter the memory as my current self, and look at my younger self in my eyes. I saw the pain in his eyes, not knowing what comes next. My therapist asked me to tell my younger self, to assure my younger self, that everything is going to be ok. To hug this younger version of me.
As I did this, I saw and felt that I am truly safe, and that I have everything I need within myself. And as I hugged myself, a burst of light exploded where our hearts met, and lit up my entire memory with golden light. I sat in this love for as long as I could.
Back in the room with my therapist, I came back to present day. I had been sobbing. At a certain point, my tears changed from sadness to elation. I felt like I had found myself for the first time in my life. We closed the session, and I spent the next few hours in silence and lightness.
That was a turning point in my life. My first significant spiritual experience, and the point at which my OCD no longer had a grip on me. My faith in myself had expanded, and I knew I was ok. Over the next few months, my night terrors went away.
I feel like I had faced the demon terrifying me all along. But the demon wasn't of evil, but of unresolved pain. It was an energy fighting so intensely for my awareness that it had to create elaborate stories of fear. When I faced that pain, I saw no evil, but my younger self trembling to be not alone.
I am so grateful to this experience, and to the therapist who guided me through this. If I still had her name, I would be recommending her whole-heartedly.
Most of all, I simply recommend healing. Take the time to heal.
EMDR is great, and if it resonates with you, go for it. Whatever path you take, make sure it's back to yourself, back to love, over and over again.