11 months of CBT have been very helpful. Being analytical by nature, I value the cognitive approach - most of the time - and I have a therapist who has grown with me and now also uses witnessing, attunement, and regulation before engaging the prefrontal cortex when needed.
Because my CBT is remote, over the past 2 weeks I've started exploring what additional forms of "therapy" might help my nervous system - my body - settle (i.e. return toward a basal vagal state).
It started unexpectedly during a haircut last week. For maybe 15 seconds, my scalp was gently massaged during the hair wash, and I felt my shoulders drop. That landed far more than I would have expected.
Encouraged by that (and by my T reminding me that caring for my own needs matters), I booked a 2-hour facial and scalp massage at a spa - unbeknownst to me, Korean-style. It was intense and well-intentioned, but ultimately too activating: constant motion, strong sensations, and deep tissue work (occasionally borderline painful in my neck, shoulders, and arms). By the end, I felt worked on rather than held. Still, it was useful data. It clarified something important: more touch is not the same as regulating touch.
So yesterday I tried CranioSacral Therapy (CST) - a gentle, hands-on somatic therapy that uses very light touch to support regulation of the central and autonomic nervous systems.
The intake conversation felt a bit esoteric, which made me skeptical. But the setup itself felt different - well supported, comfortable positioning, quiet, eyes closed, gentle contact. For the first several minutes there was only very soft holding of my head, and I wasn't sure anything was happening. But then my body settled. My thoughts grew quieter.
When the practitioner placed one hand under my shoulder blades and one on my sternum, something shifted.
I felt safety - and grief. It bubbled up quietly and non-dramatically: pressure behind the eyes, a trembling chin, then silent tears. No overwhelm. No pushing. No words. No specific memories - just the felt sense of being held and safe, alongside grief for the absence of that safety in childhood.
Later, with a slightly different hold - the hand closer to my heart - tear came up again alongside gentle memories: standing on my mother's feet as a child, and later my sister standing on mine (not memories I usually access). They felt warm and connecting.
At times I dropped into a deeper, less fully conscious state. By the end, I felt deeply relaxed - the kind that comes from being supported, not exhausted.
When I asked about follow-up frequency, the T suggested every four weeks, explaining that slower pacing allows integration rather than overload - especially alongside twice-weekly CBT. That felt thoughtful and grounding.
What I'm taking from this isn't that one modality is "better," but that my nervous system responds best to:
- stillness over intensity
- broad, non-demanding contact
- feeling supported rather than worked on
I'm still learning what helps and what doesn't. But noticing these differences - and allowing myself to keep searching - feels like progress in itself. Sometimes it's the smallest moments of safety that show us what we needed all along.
P.S.: Even though CST is practiced by licensed therapists, it is generally not covered by health insurance in the US.
Very interesting! I think if we're touch deprived we need that feeling of being held and soothed rather then being "worked on" as you say. I'm glad to hear you went for the CST therapy after your experience with the Korean massage. It's lovely that you were able to feel grief and comfort at the same time.
I had something similar happen when I had cancer some years back. I made the decision to have my hair shaved which was recommended by a woman's cancer group I attended. I was scared and upset understandably, but I came to see why it was a good thing to do. They made the whole thing into a kind of ritual of being cared for and held in my grief. Once my head was shaved, they gently washed my scalp and then gave me a long, soft head massage in a room with soft light and music. It was absolutely wonderful. As you experienced, it somehow balanced the grief, sadness and fear I was feeling. They gave me a lock of hair as I was leaving and suggested I burn it. My H and I did so in our fire pit and it was like sending my cancer out to the universe.
Our stories do make me sad I must say. It highlights just how much we needed caring touch and holding when we were children and I can't help think how much better off life would have been if we had been. I also can't help thinking about those who were sexually/physically abused and became touch adverse. It would be so much harder to break down those walls and try some healthy physical touch. CPTSD is a beast.