DPR

Dissociated Pain Release

A self-help technique developed by a trauma survivor

Anne MacMillan, MLA

Survivor, Consultant, Coach

Master's Clinical Psychology - Harvard University

Dissociated Pain Release

Self-Help Trauma Support

Dissociated Pain Release

Dissociated Pain Release (DPR) is a self-help technique that allows users to release emotional pain from trauma without re-experiencing it. It is based on the idea that emotional pain is stored in the mind, body, and nervous system and that the stored pain causes distress and discomfort in the present, whether the trauma was a recent event or something that happened many years ago.

There is no need for a DPR user to know where any emotional pain came from. All a user needs to know is that they are currently experiencing unwanted emotional pain and that they would like to release that pain and feel better -- quickly.

Most importantly, in DPR, emotional pains are released while the user is dissociated from them -- allowing the user to process any trauma or distress without being forced to relive the original traumatic experience.

Examples of emotional pain that can be released from the body and nervous system through DPR include rage, anger, shame, sadness, guilt, grief, loneliness, abandonment, anxiety, and fear.

Likewise, DRP allows users to release any stored sensations associated with physical pain or forms of bodily discomfort that happened in the past. DPR users can release sensations of nausea, dizziness, cold, being drugged, etc. Again, all these sensations are released without the DRP user re-experiencing the original potency of any traumatic event. Often DPR users release pain without even knowing what the original traumatic event may have been.

DPR has three cyclical steps: (A) identify pain to release, (B) dissociate from the pain, and (C) release the pain. Once understood, DPR is a simple, repetitive process that applies in many self-help situations. Any user employing DPR expects to complete its A-B-C cycle several times in any one self-help session. It is understood that there may be several painful emotions, different forms of physical pain and other negative bodily sensations that require release, making time and repetition necessary.

IMPORTANT

* DPR is not trauma therapy.

Anne is not a therapist and does not support individuals through trauma therapy. Anne teaches a self-help technique that individuals can apply to many situations in their everyday lives and that they have a right to use to manage any experiences they choose, traumatic or not. It is always recommended that trauma survivors hire a licensed trauma therapists whenever possible. Call 911 in any emergency.

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Anne MacMillan, MLA

Survivor, Consultant, Coach, Educator

Master's Clinical Psychology, Harvard Univerisity

IMPORTANT


* DPR is not trauma therapy.

Anne is not a therapist and does not support individuals through trauma therapy. Anne teaches a self-help technique that individuals can apply to many situations in their everyday lives and that they have a right to use to manage any experiences they choose, traumatic or not.

It is always recommended that trauma survivors hire a licensed trauma therapists whenever possible. Call 911 in any emergency.

Feeling Suicidal?
Find a Helpline:
https://findahelpline.com/

About Me

Like many others, I grew up in a household that didn't offer me the basic protections all children need. I experienced extreme trauma as a very young child and, unfortunately, that trauma continued into my adolescence and adulthood.

I survived adolescence emotionally by focusing on studying contemporary dance, helping me process my emotions and increase my body awareness. As a young adult in my twenties, I was exposed to relaxation and meditation techniques and the idea that healing that comes naturally when we move our eyes as we dream.

In my mid-twenties, memories of traumatic events that had happened during my early childhood began to return to my consciousness. I knew about EMDR (Eye-Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy for trauma, but wasn't in a situation that allowed me consistent access to a trauma therapist.

So, I began working through my traumatic memories on my own, combining what I'd learned about the emotions I felt in my body through dancing with relaxation and visualization techniques. I added what I decided to call REM Simulation -- or Rapid Eye Movement Simulation. REM sleep is the deep dreaming sleep in which humans naturally process emotions.

The result was a self-help technique that made it possible for me to work through the terrible emotions associated with traumatic events that had occurred in my past and regain the sense of emotional stability I needed -- all without having an opportunity to get the therapeutic support I needed.

Dissociated Pain Release

I dubbed my self-help technique DPR, or Dissociated Pain Release, and decided that I didn't want it to ever become something that anyone with an advanced degree and a lot of privilege could tell people they weren't qualified to perform at home on their own.

Therapy is wonderful and everyone who has access to a therapist should take advantage of that privilege. But recovery strategies should be available to anyone anywhere. That's what DPR is about for me.

From my perspective, DPR is nothing more than a collection of practical ideas put together in one package to help all of us get through the difficult emotions humans feel. It's valuable because it works and it uses human's natural REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep processing methods.

My Newest Blog Posts

Two different kinds of light cross imperfectly in a quiet threshold space, suggesting sincere intimacy signals that have not yet translated.

When Two Intimacy Systems Meet

July 06, 202612 min read

Series V, Article 5: When Two Intimacy Systems Meet

Two people in a neurodiverse relationship are, almost always, both trying. This is worth saying at the outset because the framing that most often accompanies descriptions of neurodiverse intimacy difficulties, the framing that locates the problem in one person's deficit or the other person's unreasonable expectations, misses what is actually happening (Milton, 2012; Smith et al., 2021; Yew et al., 2023). Both people are reaching toward genuine closeness. Both are offering what they understand intimacy to be. The problem is not the absence of effort or the absence of care. The problem is that each person's understanding of what intimacy is, what it requires, and what constitutes its presence or absence in a relationship, has been shaped by a nervous system and a developmental pathway that the other person does not share (Crompton, Sharp, et al., 2020; Jones et al., 2024; Milton, 2012). Both people are being intimate. They are being intimate in languages the other person is not automatically fluent in.


What Each Person Is Offering

The autistic partner in a neurodiverse relationship is typically offering real and genuinely felt intimacy. Loyalty that is not contingent on performance. Reliability that does not waver when the relationship becomes difficult. Direct and honest communication that does not conceal or soften. Deep engagement with whatever the partner cares about most, in the specific and concentrated way the staircase organizes genuine knowing. Physical presence that is consistent rather than conditional. These are not approximations of intimacy. They are genuine expressions of care and commitment, offered through the channels that the autistic developmental pathway has for building and sustaining close relationship (Crompton, Hallett, et al., 2020; Sala et al., 2020; Smith et al., 2021; Yew et al., 2023).

The non-autistic partner is also offering real and genuinely felt intimacy. Reciprocal self-disclosure: the sharing of inner experience, self-reflection, and the accumulated product of a self built through continuous social engagement, offered as an invitation into genuine knowing. Attunement to the partner's emotional states, registered through body empathy and reflected back through the continuous, responsive engagement that the non-autistic intimacy mechanism runs on. The back-and-forth of conversation that carries emotional meaning below the surface of its content, the exchange of confidences that signals trust, the felt reciprocity of two people moving toward each other through the progressive revelation of themselves (Altman & Taylor, 1973; Laurenceau et al., 1998; Reis & Shaver, 1988).

Both sets of offerings are real, both are expressions of genuine care, and in many neurodiverse relationships, both are going largely unrecognized by the person they are directed toward (Jones et al., 2024; Milton, 2012; Smith et al., 2021).


What Each Person Is Waiting For

The non-autistic partner is waiting for something specific, and its absence is experienced not as a preference going unmet but as a fundamental form of relational deprivation. They are waiting to feel received. The previous posts in this series described the non-autistic intimacy engine in some detail: the disclosure extended toward the partner, the response that communicates understanding and care, the felt sense that the inner world offered has landed somewhere and matters (Laurenceau et al., 1998; Reis & Gable, 2015; Reis et al., 2017). When that reception is not happening, when the disclosures are heard as information rather than as intimacy bids, when the back-and-forth that should be building mutual knowing is flowing primarily in one direction, the non-autistic person does not experience the relationship as going reasonably well. They experience it as one of the lonelier places they have ever been (Laurenceau et al., 1998; Smith et al., 2021; Yew et al., 2023).

The autistic partner may be waiting for something that is harder to name because it is less often named clearly: the experience of being received in the forms that the autistic pathway actually recognizes as intimacy. Direct acknowledgment of what they have offered. Genuine engagement with the things that matter most to them. Freedom from the requirement to perform the non-autistic intimacy rituals that their nervous system does not automatically produce, and that cost genuine developmental effort when they are produced at all. The experience of being with someone who does not require them to translate themselves in order to be close (Crompton, Hallett, et al., 2020; Crompton, Sharp, et al., 2020; Sala et al., 2020).

In many neurodiverse relationships, neither person is fully receiving what they are waiting for. But the two experiences of deprivation are not symmetric, and that asymmetry matters (Smith et al., 2021; Yew et al., 2023).


When Confidentiality Falls into Silence

There is a specific dynamic that many non-autistic people in neurodiverse partnerships describe, and MacMillan's clinical framework names it precisely. When the non-autistic partner shares something personal, something of their inner life, their self-reflection, their emotional experience, they are extending an intimacy bid of the kind the previous posts described: offering the self to be received (Laurenceau et al., 1998; Reis & Shaver, 1988). The autistic partner, listening attentively, receives the content. They may engage with it genuinely, asking questions about it, thinking about it, responding to what is actually being said (Sala et al., 2020; Smith et al., 2021).

What they may not receive is the relational function of the disclosure. The invitation to meet the offering with a corresponding self-disclosure, to create the back-and-forth of mutual revelation that the non-autistic intimacy process depends on. The signal that the inner world being described carries emotional weight and deserves to be held. These are the things the non-autistic nervous system expects to happen when it extends an intimacy bid, and they depend on the receiving partner having automatic access to the body empathy channels through which those expectations are normally met (Laurenceau et al., 1998; Reis & Gable, 2015; Reis et al., 2017).

The result is that many non-autistic people in neurodiverse partnerships describe doing most of the sharing and most of the listening: extending themselves toward closeness and finding the extension received as information rather than as an invitation. The inner world offered begins to feel, over time, as though it does not quite land anywhere. The non-autistic partner may sense, often accurately, that the autistic partner is not fully aware of what is being offered, is not tracking the emotional meaning beneath the content, and is not finding the things being shared as resonant or as relationally significant as they are intended to be (Smith et al., 2021; Stafford, 2023; Yew et al., 2023).

This is not cruelty. It is not indifference. It is the structural consequence of two people whose intimacy systems run on different channels trying to connect through channels that do not automatically interface (Jones et al., 2024; Milton, 2012).


The Satisfaction Gap

Research on neurodiverse partnerships has found that autistic and non-autistic partners can experience the quality of their relationship quite differently, with autistic partners tending to rate the relationship more positively than their non-autistic partners do (Yew et al., 2023). Applied to the intimacy domain specifically, this pattern has a particular logic. The autistic partner often experiences the relationship as going reasonably well, their intimacy needs as being adequately met. The non-autistic partner often experiences significant distress: a sense of relational deprivation, of reaching for a closeness that is always slightly out of reach, of being in a relationship that functions and continues and is in many ways genuinely valued, but that does not provide the specific form of intimate nourishment the non-autistic nervous system needs (Smith et al., 2021; Stafford, 2023; Yew et al., 2023).

This is not a perception gap produced by one partner being wrong. Both perceptions are accurate to the intimacy system doing the perceiving. The autistic partner's intimacy needs, centered on reliability, direct engagement, shared interest, and consistent presence, may genuinely be met within the relationship. The non-autistic partner's intimacy needs, centered on reciprocal disclosure, emotional reciprocity, and the felt sense of being received, are not being met in the same way. The result is two people in the same relationship, one of whom is experiencing a degree of intimacy sufficiency and one of whom is experiencing a degree of intimacy deprivation, each looking at the other with genuine confusion about why the other's experience is so different from their own (Crompton, Sharp, et al., 2020; Laurenceau et al., 1998; Milton, 2012; Yew et al., 2023).

The autistic partner may find it genuinely difficult to understand what is missing, since from inside their intimacy framework, the relationship is providing what relationships are supposed to provide. The non-autistic partner may find it genuinely difficult to believe that their deprivation is not deliberate, since from inside their intimacy framework, the absence of reciprocal reception feels like a choice. Neither interpretation is accurate to what is actually happening. Both are the natural products of two different intimacy systems trying to make sense of a shared relational experience through frameworks that were not designed for the other (Jones et al., 2024; Milton, 2012; Smith et al., 2021).


The Double Empathy Problem at the Level of Intimacy

Milton's double empathy problem, the insight that communication difficulties in autistic and non-autistic interaction are bidirectional rather than located entirely in the autistic person, applies with particular clarity to the intimacy domain (Jones et al., 2024; Milton, 2012). Both people in the neurodiverse relationship are, in some sense, failing to read the other's intimacy system accurately. The non-autistic partner may interpret the absence of reciprocal emotional disclosure as emotional unavailability, withholding, or indifference, when it is actually a different intimacy architecture operating according to its own genuine logic. The autistic partner may interpret the non-autistic partner's persistent need for back-and-forth emotional exchange as excessive or as an insatiable demand, when it is actually the non-autistic intimacy engine running exactly as it was built to run and not finding the input it requires (Laurenceau et al., 1998; Milton, 2012; Sala et al., 2020).

Both interpretations cause harm and both are understandable products of the situation, and both can be addressed, not easily and not automatically, but through the kind of genuine understanding of each other's intimacy system that most neurodiverse couples have never been given the framework to develop (Stafford, 2023; Yew et al., 2023).

The loneliness this produces, for both people, is worth sitting with before moving to what can be done about it. The non-autistic person in a neurodiverse relationship who is not being reached in the way their intimacy system requires is experiencing something genuinely serious: the deprivation is not trivial, and it accumulates over time in ways that affect everything from mental health to the felt viability of the relationship itself (Smith et al., 2021; Stafford, 2023; Yew et al., 2023). The autistic person who discovers that their genuine and sustained effort toward intimacy has been experienced as insufficient, as missing the mark, as somehow failing to constitute real closeness, is also experiencing something serious: the particular grief of learning that what they understood themselves to be offering was not being received as the offering it was (Crompton, Hallett, et al., 2020; Milton, 2012; Smith et al., 2021).

Both deserve understanding. Both deserve a framework that can hold what each person is actually experiencing without locating the problem in either person's character or intent (Milton, 2012; Smith et al., 2021; Yew et al., 2023). That framework, and what it makes possible in practice, is where the final post of this series turns.

Next in this series: Toward Mutual Intelligibility, what it actually takes for two different intimacy systems to become legible to each other, the specific practices that allow each person to recognize and respond to the other's intimacy bids, and what genuinely mutual closeness looks like when it becomes possible across neurological difference.


THE SERIES:

Article 1: What Intimacy Actually Is
Article 2: How Intimacy Forms Along the Non-Autistic Pathway
Article 3: How Intimacy Forms Along the Autistic Pathway
Article 4: Physical Intimacy, Sensory Experience and the Body
Article 5: When Two Intimacy Systems Meet
Article 6: Toward Mutual Intelligibility


References

Altman, I., & Taylor, D. A. (1973). Social penetration: The development of interpersonal relationships. Holt, Rinehart & Winston.

Craig, A. D. (2009). How do you feel—now? The anterior insula and human awareness. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 10(1), 59–70. https://doi.org/10.1038/nrn2555

Crompton, C. J., Hallett, S., Ropar, D., Flynn, E. G., & Fletcher-Watson, S. (2020). “I never realised everybody felt as happy as I do when I am around autistic people”: A thematic analysis of autistic adults’ relationships with autistic and neurotypical friends and family. Autism, 24(6), 1438–1448. https://doi.org/10.1177/1362361320908976

Crompton, C. J., Sharp, M., Axbey, H., Fletcher-Watson, S., Flynn, E. G., & Ropar, D. (2020). Neurotype-matching, but not being autistic, influences self and observer ratings of interpersonal rapport. Frontiers in Psychology, 11, Article 586171. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2020.586171

Decety, J., & Jackson, P. L. (2004). The functional architecture of human empathy. Behavioral and Cognitive Neuroscience Reviews, 3(2), 71–100. https://doi.org/10.1177/1534582304267187

Jones, D. R., Botha, M., Ackerman, R. A., King, K., & Sasson, N. J. (2024). Non-autistic observers both detect and demonstrate the double empathy problem when evaluating interactions between autistic and non-autistic adults. Autism, 28(8), 2053–2065. https://doi.org/10.1177/13623613231219743

Laurenceau, J.-P., Barrett, L. F., & Pietromonaco, P. R. (1998). Intimacy as an interpersonal process: The importance of self-disclosure, partner disclosure, and perceived partner responsiveness in interpersonal exchanges. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74(5), 1238–1251. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.74.5.1238

Milton, D. E. M. (2012). On the ontological status of autism: The “double empathy problem.” Disability & Society, 27(6), 883–887. https://doi.org/10.1080/09687599.2012.710008

Reis, H. T., & Gable, S. L. (2015). Responsiveness. Current Opinion in Psychology, 1, 67–71. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2015.01.001

Reis, H. T., Lemay, E. P., Jr., & Finkenauer, C. (2017). Toward understanding understanding: The importance of feeling understood in relationships. Social and Personality Psychology Compass, 11(3), Article e12308. https://doi.org/10.1111/spc3.12308

Reis, H. T., & Shaver, P. (1988). Intimacy as an interpersonal process. In S. Duck, D. F. Hay, S. E. Hobfoll, W. Ickes, & B. M. Montgomery (Eds.), Handbook of personal relationships: Theory, research and interventions (pp. 367–389). Wiley.

Sala, G., Hooley, M., & Stokes, M. A. (2020). Romantic intimacy in autism: A qualitative analysis. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 50, 4133–4147. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-020-04377-x

Smith, R., Netto, J., Gribble, N. C., & Falkmer, M. (2021). “At the end of the day, it’s love”: An exploration of relationships in neurodiverse couples. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 51, 3311–3321. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10803-020-04790-z

Stafford, A. (2023). Relationship-counselling recommendations for partnerships involving autistic adults: A scoping review. Psychotherapy and Counselling Journal of Australia, 11(1). https://doi.org/10.59158/001c.77496

Yew, R. Y., Hooley, M., & Stokes, M. A. (2023). Factors of relationship satisfaction for autistic and non-autistic partners in long-term relationships. Autism, 27(8), 2348–2360. https://doi.org/10.1177/13623613231160244

neurodiverse intimacyneurodiverse relationshipsneurodiverse coupleautistic and non-autistic relationshipsintimacy systemsmissed intimacy bidsrelationship lonelinessdouble empathy problememotional reciprocityautistic partnernon-autistic partnerneurodiverse relationship problemsautism and intimacyintimacy mismatch
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Anne MacMillan, MLA

Anne MacMillan, MLA is the founder of R.E.A.L. Neurodiverse 10-Step Family Systems Approach, designed to support Level 1 autistic adults and their neurodivergent and neurotypical family members as they come to understand what makes them different, work to improve their relationships, and take action to improve their lives. MacMillan has over 50 years of personal life experience with neurodiverse family systems, over 20 years of personal life experience in a neurodiverse intimate life partnership, and has been professionally supporting autistics and non-autistic adults in neurodiverse close family relationships since 2017. She has a master's in psychology from Harvard University where she did some of the world's first quantitative research on autism and intimate life partnerships. She self-identifies as a high body empathetic, or a non-autistic neurodivergent with a high level of body empathy.

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