Early Struggles

My story starts in a challenging early life. I was a military brat with my dad being in the Air Force. We moved every two years, and I had three, older brothers, all of whom have since passed, may they rest in peace. My parents separated when I was about nine and divorced around 11.

My mother, who was undiagnosed with bipolar disorder until her 80s, was a consummate military wife, but her moods cycled between long periods of low, dysthymic states and manic phases triggered by something positive happening in her life. I imagine that she got too excited in those times – sad.

As a five-year-old, I felt the tension from her struggles and started gaining weight. I am half Italian, so food was my stress relief. By the time we moved to California because my mom wanted to settle down and move on with her life, I was overweight and buck toothed. After the divorce, my oldest brother moved out, and my other brothers stayed with Dad. Mom took me, her "baby," with her as she pursued her degree (she eventually got a master's in counseling).

Living with her was chaotic and traumatic, her wild moods left me stressed and scared. I didn't know where I stood; she'd say things like "you're just like your father" when she was manic, and she hated him.

At Arcade Junior High in Sacramento, I was bullied mercilessly. Coming from Virginia and Ohio, where people were friendlier, this was a shock. Kids ganged up on me; two girls once laughed and said, "Has anyone ever said you're cute? Well, they'll never say it again."

During eighth grade, Mom had a severe manic episode where she even bit my forearm during a tussle, leaving teeth marks. I shut down, faking stomachaches to skip school. Mom took me to a child psychologist, but she didn't like his assessment that I was a normal kid going through tough times.

I adored my dad, but he was aloof and narcissistic. I desperately wanted to live with him in Ohio, where he'd remarried. Finally, at around 13, I went back—but my stepmother was relentless. The first thing she said at the airport was, "Where are the custody papers?" My mom had handwritten a note, which she deemed unacceptable and threatened to send me back. She seemed to criticize everything I did. If I hung clothes the "wrong" way, she'd chew me out. If she found crumbs on the kitchen counter, it was my fault. I remember racing around the house to make sure everything was neat and tidy, whenever I heard the garage door open upon there return from an outing. She called me the "whiny fat kid with braces." All I wanted was to stay safe with my dad.

Bulimia and Difficult Family Dynamics

Those words, "whiny fat kid" stuck with me. My brother David was a wrestler and purged to lose weight, so I started doing the same. I couldn't stop eating, but purging let me control my weight. It became a serious form of bulimia, binging and purging multiple times a day. People don't always associate bulimia with men, but it's common in wrestling circles. I lost weight, became popular at school, even hit home runs in softball, until I got too thin.

For my 13th birthday, all I wanted was an Adirondack metal softball bat. Dad took me to the base exchange, making me believe that I would get it as a present but instead, I got a card with nothing in it. My next-door neighbors, a single mom and her son with little money, gave me $10, which meant a lot. My stepmother said they didn't get the bat because I was going back to Mom and it wouldn't fit on the plane.

Back with Mom, the bulimia worsened. Physically, it was horrible and dangerous for the heart and electrolytes. But the worst was shame and guilt. It devastated my social life; I couldn't connect with people because parties and outings involved food. I hid this secret for over 40 years, from age 13 onward. It was a daily dark thought, preventing solid relationships due to embarrassment.

Seeking Help and Discovering Neurofeedback

Fast-forward to adulthood: I was in the "sandwich generation," dealing with Mom's mental health issues and trying to help my daughter through her own traumas (I won't go into details here). In 2010, we both tried neurofeedback with clinicians Dan Jorgensen and Claudia Hannson who were wonderful to me. Dan passed away in 2020 – may he rest in peace and Claudia is now retired and teaching Buddhist retreats.

My daughter didn't want to be a guinea pig, so I did everything first. They did a qEEG on me, showing beta spindles at the top of my head and that "feature" was not surprising given my life experience.

We did SMR training with inhibits for high beta, using a movie player that expanded or scrunched based on my brain electrical activity and if it was in the pre-determined "sweet spot". It frustrated me and I couldn't get the movie player to stay wide or get the sound to be clear. Dan moved me on to Alpha Theta training, bringing three notes into an uplifting chord when my brain electrical activity was just right. It thrilled me when I was able to get there – which wasn't often enough. Dan even let me record it to practice at home. It was interesting and fun at times, but it didn't help much overall.

By 2016, things had worsened for my daughter, so I looked into neurofeedback again. I found Jonathan Harris in Sacramento, an engineer who'd tried every type. He recommended NeurOptimal^® and gave me a demo (Version 2). My daughter declined, but I tried it. As soon as I heard the music (Jeff Bova's, though I didn't know it then) and noticed the interruptions offered as feedback and without having to do anything consciously, I was hooked. I bought a system right away back on February 16, 2016.

NeurOptimal^® as Part of My Wellness Journey

I got my basic and advanced certifications, did 100 sessions, and continued connecting with my mentor. Over time, NeurOptimal^® became one part of a much broader personal wellness journey that also included reflection, support from people important to me, and a growing focus on how I wanted to live my life.

Looking back on that period, I experienced a great deal of personal growth. I became more motivated, more resilient, and better able to navigate everyday stress. With my high-stress life (everything's relative, we all experience stress), I learned to shift gears more easily, compartmentalize, handle intense situations, and perform at a high level in my job. I see NeurOptimal^® as one of the wellness practices that became part of my life during that broader period of change. What I do isn't work, it's an exciting adventure.

There's also a fun experience we shared in quantum interconnectivity and synchronicity. My mentor and I, during a video call and located in different places (me in Cameron Park, California; him near Boston), noticed we were both sitting under the exact same type of ceiling fan during our conversation. Spooky action at a distance, indeed amusing and profound.

A Wonderful Journey with My Mother

Beyond my own changes, NeurOptimal^® also became something my mother and I could share during a beautiful period of reconnecting in our relationship. For years, our bond was strained by her undiagnosed bipolar disorder and the chaos it brought into my early life. I was not only frightened of her but also embarrassed and ashamed to let others know about this.

But in her later years, after her diagnosis in her 80s, we embarked on a journey of reconciliation. NeurOptimal^® was something we sometimes shared, but most importantly we had fun and open conversations and reached an ultimate place of understanding and peace. Over time, old wounds softened and we were able to connect in ways I never thought possible. That change in our relationship turned pain into profound gratitude and love. May she rest in peace.

Gratitude and Conclusion

I'm so grateful to my mentor, colleague, and friend (a psychologist who has guided me through this) as I share this deepest story. It feels like it's from another Craig, it's no longer a burden to me. NeurOptimal^® became an important part of my personal wellness routine during a period of tremendous personal growth, with changes in my life such as renewed motivation, emotional resilience, and the ability to thrive amid challenges.

Whatever your own journey looks like, remember: This is training, not treatment or therapy. Seek medical advice if needed. But for me, it's been transformative. Thanks for reading...I'm passionate about helping others through this. Please feel free to let me know how I can help.