I Had an Exorcism

Dear community,

Here’s the Cambridge Dictionary definition of exorcism: 1. The process of forcing an evil spirit to leave a person or a place by using prayers or magic. 2. The act of removing the bad effects of a frightening or upsetting event.

It’s kind of hard to wrap our minds steeped in the conditioning of the modern life around the concepts above. So I will try to explain what I personally mean by exorcism, because talking about evil spirits might not drive my point home very well.

As many of you know, I have been on a path of seeking and searching for the past 8 years. I wasn’t even sure what I was seeking, but I just knew that practicing medicine the way the current “healthcare” system was not IT. I wasn’t being helped by the system with my own healthcare problems and I was helping my patients minimally (metaphorically speaking, I was helping them by applying bandages to their wounds, instead of actually figuring out what caused the wound and cleaning it up).

Long story short: my sleep has not been great since residency (approximately 27 years). The long hours (more than 100 hours/ week most weeks), the night shifts, the stress of being a new doctor in a new country, speaking a language I wasn’t completely comfortable with, working within systems I didn’t completely grasp took a toll on my sleep. Things got better for a while, but then I had my babies (two at once!) and my whole life went back into chaos for a while. When my babies turned five or so, after they’ve been sleeping by themselves for a while and their sleep was solid, I decided to finally have a sleep study. The sleep study showed that during the one night or about 8 hours of laying in bed, I woke up more than 200 times, the equivalent of waking up every 2.4 minutes. The only answer I received from the conventional medicine doctor I saw was: “You don’t have sleep apnea. You are fine”.

This started me on a quest of seeking answers. I wanted to understand what was happening to me, and I wanted to feel better. I started reading, informing myself, immersing myself in the newest information. I started running my own experiments. I would occasionally feel better for a while, but then my very interrupted, non-restful sleep would come back. Here are some of the things I have tried: magnesium supplements, Trazodone, Diazepam, Ambien, Lunesta, Diphenhydramine, Melatonin, Ashwaganda, various kinds of vitamins in various doses, yoga, chanting, vagus nerve stimulation with exercises or devices, CBD oil, cannabis, magic mushrooms, LSD, microdosing with magic mushrooms, microdosing with LSD and cannabis at the same time, breathwork, sat in ceremony with grandmother Ayahuascax4, no alcohol, small amounts of alcohol, TRE, walking, weight lifting, swimming, blue light blockers, cutting off the Wi-Fi at night, changing the mattress, a perfectly dark and quiet and cool room, no carbs, paleo, keto, fasting, intermittent fasting, fasting mimicking diets, vegetarian, no dairy no gluten diet, more yoga, Oura ring, internal family systems, cognitive behavioral therapy, ancestral work, the bark of Acacia tree from Egypt, the root of the Pueraria mirrifica plant from Thailand, estrogen, progesterone, ketamine, massage, hypnosis, neurolinguistic programming (NLP), innumerable coaches and programs, including, but not limited to: Tony Robbins, Mel Robbins, Tim Ferris, Brene Brown, Aubrey Marcus, Brooke Castillo and honestly the list can go on for a while. I’ve been relentlessly seeking. I have been very close to giving up, and to deciding that my inability to have good sleep is something I have inherited from my father, as his sleep used to be as interrupted as mine.

This journey has been tremendously beautiful, frustrating, rewarding, sad, occasionally very lonely. It is possible that all the things I have learned have helped a little (like I always tell my patients, we find little pieces of the puzzle along the way, but we need all the pieces in order for the puzzle to be complete). The piece that completed the puzzle, the one that I am pretty sure made everything else fall into place was the transformation I have undergone during my trip to Romania, in the mountains of Hunedoara.

It’s a place called “Calatoria Inimii” (“The Journey of the Heart”). I have been there one time before, in October, and that is when I met the people who helped me get a little closer to myself. We had vegetarian food, we drank the sap of the birch tree (collected in a very respectful, sustainable way, that doesn’t damage the trees long term), and we had holotropic breathwork. (If you don’t know what holotropic breathwork is, I highly recommend you look into it. Here’s a no-cost to you book version of it: https://archive.org/details/holotropicbreathworknewapproachtoselfexplorationtherapystanislavgrofchristinagrof_419_W/page/n9/mode/2upand here’s a brief, 3 minute video of Stan Grof (the visionary, the one who brought the idea of holotropic breath work to life) explaining the concept:

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I participated in various types of breathwork many times in the past. I participated in holotropic breathwork once, in Denver, as part of a workshop during the MAPS annual meeting (the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies). I found my breathwork journeys underwhelming. They were relaxing, however, I never had any of these grand experiences that people described, massive releases, encounters with ancestors, visions etc. I was always left with a “meh” feeling, “is this all there is?” kind of aftertaste. In October, at Calatoria Inimii, there was supposed be holotropic breathwork as part of the modalities offered for healing, but mysteriously, the electrical system short-circuited, and after that was repaired, the music system blew up. At the time, I really didn’t want to do breathwork ever again, as I thought it was kind of a waste of time, and I really hated how dry my mouth got after breathing with my mouth open for a long time. However, this time (the retreat in the beginning of April) was different. I have formed a relationship with the retreat leaders and I started trusting them. They were no-nonsense Romanians, whom I related to on so many levels. Thy were (literally and figuratively) speaking my language. I could feel myself relaxing and letting go of a few barriers I have put up over the years. I could see myself becoming more present in real time, allowing myself to be with them in a state of non-judgement and trust. So… when it was time for the holotropic breathwork, I was ready. I didn’t know at the time, but I have already set the foundation, I had the most important ingredient necessary for a transformative breathwork experience: trust.

Here’s how holotropic breathwork unfolded for me during my time in the Romanian mountains: mattresses spread across the floor, very loud music, and a simple instruction to keep returning to my body and its sensations. (Now, my connection to my body hasn’t been strong for a long time. I’ve spent years trying to control it, escape it, change it, or deny what I feel. Somewhere early on in my life, I learned that feeling less—or not feeling at all—made me more acceptable, more lovable.

Recently, I’ve been attempting to stay present in my body, especially when discomfort arises, while also stepping away from my usual numbing habits like eating, alcohol, cannabis, or endless scrolling. So far, it’s been… mostly unsuccessful. However, I did have some experience in attempting to feel and stay with my bodily sensations, is all I’m trying to say.) So while my mind kept up her usual chatter, even with the very loud music going on, I kept practicing returning to the body. And the body was talking… it was uncomfortable. It wanted to move, not always in the prettiest, most graceful of ways (still unable to let go of self-judgment!). My hips wanted to get up from the mattress, my legs kept going from one side to the other, my butt went up in the air, my head was going from side to side, in a wild sweeping motion. I have allowed all this, as I was on my mattress and I didn’t seem to bother anyone and it felt pretty good to keep moving. Images of past events popped up, immense reservoirs of sadness were unlocked and I started weeping. As someone who has not shed a tear for more than 20 years, (to the best of my remembering, no tears whatsoever between 1996-2020), whenever the flood gates open, it feels wonderful and I welcome tears. Sadness is an emotion I know well, and that doesn’t scare me any longer. After what seemed like a long time, the tears dried up, the body was tired and I felt a pleasant fatigue. That is when I took my mask off and looked around. Everyone (there were a total of 18 journeyers, I think) was on their mats, breathing quietly. I figured I’d just lay there and wait for the music to be over. I’d had my experience. I released large amounts of tears (and mucus) and I felt pretty good. That is when AmmaRa, the facilitator, came over and put her hand on my chest. All of a sudden, a wave of sadness of a whole new intensity took over my body. There was no story attached to it (in my previous felt sadness, there was always a story, always something/someone to feel sorry about). This wave was totally different in this regard. It was all sensation and no narrative. All of a sudden, I felt scared. I glimpsed at AmmaRa’s face briefly. Her face was serious, attentive, attuned. There was no performance. Only focused attention. I felt seen. I started weeping again, quietly, as I didn’t want to disturb the other journeyer’s experience. The wave was moving from my chest to my throat and something needed to be let out. I didn’t allow it, as it felt too big and too scary and again, there were so many people there, there was no reason to bother everyone with my big feelings. All of a sudden, my ribs started hurting, a pain so intense, it felt like being stabbed. I groaned. She asked me where it hurt. Without words, I guided her hands to my ribs. She put her hands on my ribs and the pain dissolved, but the wave going from my chest to my throat was amplified. I was weeping quietly. She said: “I’ve got you. I am here”. That is when I decided to let go. I decided to let my body do whatever it felt like doing, with no concern for how it looked, or how it impacted the people in the room (how rude! Says the judgmental voice that never stops). A howl came out of my mouth, so loud and so visceral it didn’t sound human. In my mind’s eye I saw a creature that resembled a massive snake or a dragon, coming out of my mouth and spiraling into the ceiling. I saw the scales of the creature. I saw its dragon head. I saw it leave my body and disappear into the ethers. My body curled up into fetal position. My mind was quieter, but still asking the same questions that it always asks when there’s another person involved in my experience: “What do they need from me right now, so they would feel comfortable?” “What can I do so I produce the least amount of unpleasantness for them?” “ How can I turn myself into someone who makes them feel good about themselves?”. And another part of my mind was looking at all these questions with awe and with compassion.

The usual ruminations that occupy my mind on a regular basis stopped for at least 12 hours. They restarted in the morning, but at a slower, more manageable pace. The bodily sensations and feelings I have been trying to resist for so long are now a regular occurrence. I welcome them, even though I don’t really enjoy the discomfort of feeling. But all the theory I’ve been learning for so long is helping me. it takes 90 seconds for a feeling wave to go through the body and reach completion. I allow 90 seconds. I rest, or I move. I feel like a bamboo shoot in the wind: I move with the wave, rather than what I used to do previously, which was brace myself against the wave, turn myself into something extremely rigid. A bamboo tree that is alive vs. a construction made out of cement (sturdy, but rigid, and prone to cracking, no flexibility whatsoever).

During the retreat, I also learned and implemented some new detoxification techniques, like shaking. I will go in more detail about the health benefits of shaking later.

And most importantly, I am now experiencing deep, restorative sleep. For the first time in 27 years, I am able to surrender to Hypnos, the Greek God of sleep. Hypnos was the son of Nyx (Night) and Erebus (Darkness) and of course, the twin brother of Thanatos (Death). What a beautiful analogy I see here: once I was able to surrender into trust and I restored the balance of my nervous system by releasing whatever I needed to release… now I am able to surrender into the arms of sleep. Because what is deep sleep but a state of trust. Trust that you will be held while you’re unconscious, trust that you will wake up the next morning, trust that the world will still be there upon awakening.

Being alive requires so much trust. And this late in my life, at the age of 54, I am re-learning how to trust myself, trust sleep, trust feeling, trust life.

Thank you to all my guides on this amazing, dizzying journey. My husband and daughters, my sister, my mother, my friends- I couldn’t have done it without you.

With love, (a tiny sprinkle of) rage, and reverence,

Your disorganized, recovering people-pleaser, community-dreamer, hope-filled activist in the making, deep-sleeper,

Corina