Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is a debilitating, psychiatric disorder, and neurofeedback may be able to improve the symptoms of PTSD. What is PTSD? What is neurofeedback? Join Psych2Go's Monica Taing (http://instagram.com/psychtomed) and Dr Andrew Hill from Peak Brain Institute for a live discussion about Neurofeedback for PTSD on 19 January 2022 at 14:00 EST. This video is for educational purposes only, and not intended to substitute for medical advice. Please consult a professional for any medical questions. ──────────────────────── If you'd like to get involved, e-mail me at monica[at]psych2go.net Peak Brain Institute: https://peakbraininstitute.com/ ──────────────────────── Thumbnail by Tilly @ http://instagram.com/tillyartgallery
Episode Summary
I sat down with Monica Taing on Psych2Go's Ask an Expert series to talk about how neurofeedback works for trauma and PTSD. The conversation originally aired on Psych2Go, and you can watch the original conversation. What follows is drawn from that discussion, written up so you can use it.
I run Peak Brain Institute, and I operate more like a personal trainer for your brain than a therapist or a doctor. I have a PhD in cognitive neuroscience, I taught gerontology at UCLA for about twelve years, and I have looked at thousands of brain maps. The work is teaching people to read their own brain activity and then coaching them to change it.
What Is EEG, and What Are Brain Waves?
Your brain runs on electricity. It is full of neurons, and groups of them fire together in rhythmic patterns. The heart does something similar, which is what you see on an EKG. The brain is messier. You have billions of small computational units, called mini-columns or micro-columns, each holding roughly thirty thousand neurons and about a hundred thousand glial support cells. Each of these little engines fires in a pattern, and the firing rate runs from under once per second up to several hundred times per second.
That firing rate is the information. We read it through the scalp with EEG. The frequency bands matter:
- Delta (about 1 to 2 Hz) is the slow background. It runs your dreamless slow-wave sleep and keeps basic systems moving. You live in it; you do not think in it.
- Theta (around 4 Hz) is the lubrication. It releases tissue to do its job. Too little and the tissue gets stuck. Too much over attention circuits and your mind wanders.
- Alpha is the neutral resting tone, the brain idling between activation states. I cover this in more depth in Decoding Alpha Waves.
- Beta is the gas pedal. It is the activated, working state.
These bands sit over different regions like signatures. You can read more about how those signatures cluster in Biohacking with EEG Phenotypes.
Why Does Trauma Show Up as a Circuit Problem?
When I look at the brain maps of people with trauma or PTSD, I see natural circuits stuck in one mode of regulation. Cramped resources doing their job, locked on.
Two circuits carry most of the load.
The posterior cingulate sits on the back midline. Its job is orienting you to the outside world, scanning, keeping your head up. After a frightening or unpredictable event, it can over-activate, the way your lower back can spasm and lock after a car accident so you can still walk away. The brain learns the world is not safe and over-allocates that scanning resource. On a map, that shows up as excess beta over the back midline, and the experience is threat sensitivity and rumination. You feel caught in your gut.
The anterior cingulate sits on the front midline. When it runs hot with beta, you get perseveration, the obsessive looping in your head. When it runs hot with theta instead, you get a disinhibited version: songs playing in your head all day, aggressive nail-biting, intrusive thoughts. Both cingulates belong to a set of integrating hub regions, including the default mode network, the self-referential racetrack of consciousness that zips through these structures.
In a trauma response the brain often plays ping-pong between the two. Did you hear that? Did I miss something? Did you worry? You cannot let it settle even when you cognitively know you do not need to be on alert. The circuit learned it had better stay on for safety reasons, and human creativity does the rest, generating more things that could go wrong.
The tempoparietal junction, a circuit behind the right ear that handles taking in the environment, plays a role too. When it runs hot alongside the anterior cingulate, you see environmentally triggered anxiety: misophonia, where the sound of chewing drives you up the wall, claustrophobia, agoraphobia. Similar circuits, different flavors.
Can You Reach the Deeper Trauma Circuits?
Some trauma sits below the cortex, where EEG cannot see it directly. The periaqueductal gray is one of these. In school I learned the PAG dumps painkillers into the central canal when you slam your thumb with a hammer. It turns out the PAG is sensitive to emotional pain too. High stress early in life sensitizes it to the possibility of future pain. It becomes the pre-alert, the voice that has been bracing you for thirty years about something that happened when you were young.
You cannot measure the PAG on an EEG. You reach it by training the cortical regulators that sit upstream of it, the cingulate circuits you can see, and by working the regulatory layers around it: sleep, stress, attention. This is how cortical network targeting works for subcortical structures, and it is the same logic behind targeting the amygdala through its prefrontal regulators.
How Does Neurofeedback Actually Change the Brain?
Neurofeedback is operant conditioning applied to brain activity. Pavlov's dog pairs two things that were never associated. Operant conditioning takes a behavior that already exists and shapes it. You are already making brain waves. We put a measurement criterion right next to one of them and reward the movements we want.
Here is the setup for cingulate work. We place a wire or two over the cingulate region above the scalp, add an ear clip, and measure activity in real time, say the moment-to-moment amount of beta. That beta fluctuates on its own. So does the alpha sitting between the activation states. Whenever you happen to make less beta and more alpha for half a second, the computer rewards it: puzzle pieces fill in, the car speeds up, dots get gobbled. The brain notices. Stuff is happening. I like stuff. A few seconds later the beta climbs back, the reward stalls, and the brain notices that too. Where did my stuff go?
The trick is that we move the goalposts every thirty seconds or so, nudging the criterion in the direction we want. The brain reaches toward more alpha to keep the information flowing. This is the same machinery as a baby doing its first push-up, getting fifteen feet of new visual information, and wanting to do it again. Association between an action and a payoff, shaped over trial and error. This is the same principle behind SMR neurofeedback and the broader question of whether neurofeedback is legitimate.
When Will You Feel It?
Most of the training is involuntary, which is why people sit there at first convinced nothing is happening. Then two, three, or four sessions in, usually after the session rather than during it, the brain says wait a minute, alpha is producing information, I want more of that, and jacks the alpha up in the posterior cingulate for a couple of hours. You feel oddly chill and you are not sure you believe it. Try it again, and if we are anywhere near reality, the effect comes back stronger.
From there it becomes iterative. We train about half an hour, three times a week. Around a week and a half in, the changes start. We have you report what you notice and adjust the workouts. We remap the brain about every other month. For features of anxiety, executive function, sleep, processing speed, and brain fog, we typically see about a full standard deviation of change on the bell curve every other month.
With acute PTSD, including the work I have done with veterans, people are often feeling substantially better around six weeks in. Classic intrusive symptoms lose their teeth. Complex, developmental, slow-moving relational and attachment trauma moves slower, and there I want to build regulatory resilience first: sleep, stress, attention.
How Does the Brain Map Change Your Relationship With Trauma?
When I read your map I am not looking for what is wrong with you. People are weird, and I do not expect you to be average. I compare you to an age-matched sample and find the places you differ: extra beta here, extra theta there. That is data validity, not psychological validity. So I have to ask you. You have a lot of beta on the back midline. Are you threat sensitive? Do you ruminate? If you say yes, now the finding is plausible for you, and now we can decide whether it is worth training.
This is where the work shifts something. Seeing your trauma as a part of your brain, a strong circuit doing its job too hard, changes the relationship from guilt and overwhelm to something more operational. The same way a lipid panel turned cholesterol from a mystery into something you could act on. I lean on this framing constantly with trauma, anxiety, and the fight-or-flight response.
The diagnostic label matters far less to me than which resources are running which way for you. The picture is usually more layered than the label suggests. Someone arrives with an anxiety diagnosis and their map shows brain fog and sleep disruption driving it. A kid arrives with an ADHD diagnosis and the map shows a burned-out brain that stops paying attention by afternoon. The diagnostic categories were built for insurance companies, not for individuals, so they often fit the person poorly.
The same hot anterior cingulate that reads as OCD in one person reads as a hyper-focused CEO in another. The same hot posterior cingulate that reads as threat sensitivity in one person is an effective lifeguard or a parent tracking three chaotic kids in another. These are powerful circuits, over-allocated.
SMR, Sleep, and the Cat on the Windowsill
On the right side of the brain there is a circuit involved in sleep maintenance and in knowing you are paying attention. It runs on a low-frequency beta we call SMR, the sensorimotor rhythm. Neurofeedback was discovered around this frequency in the mid-1960s, by accident, working with cats. A cat lying still on a windowsill with that laser focus is producing tons of SMR. Humans use the same rhythm to sit still, to stay asleep, to avoid being reactive, and in some cases to suppress seizures. The cat on the windowsill is the literal opposite of ADHD: same brain state, different amount.
When you have too much theta and not enough of that low beta, things become disinhibited. On the motor strip that produces executive function and sleep problems. On the cingulates, front to back, you get a disinhibited internal experience rather than a hot, classic anxiety one.
Does Neurofeedback Replace Therapy?
About half my trauma and anxiety clients are doing other work too: DBT, CBT, family systems work, somatic experiencing. For early-life and attachment trauma, DBT tends to be high priority. The other half have spent ten, fifteen, twenty years managing their dysregulation, are savvy about it, and have tried meds and therapy and want something else.
I think of neurofeedback as the strength and conditioning coach in the gym, building the resource. Your therapist is the coach in the field, catching the moment you drop your elbow on the release. Resource versus skill. Skills are voluntary, effortful, earned over time. The resource side, the part that pulls the teeth out of being triggered, is what neurofeedback addresses. We also do mindfulness training and operate in the biohacker space, advising on macronutrient cycling, hyperbaric medicine, red light therapy, nootropics, and the rest.
On medications: most do not block neurofeedback. Stimulants can even reduce movement artifact and help certain protocols, though they may mask subtler changes. Stable, effective medication usually does not need to change before you start, though as your own regulation improves, you and your prescriber may revisit dosing.
Where to Start
You do not have to commit to a full program to learn something. A QEEG brain map shows you the gross features: stress, sleep, attention, and the circuits behind your anxiety or trauma response. You can map your brain on caffeine, on cannabis, on a new meditation practice, and watch how it changes. That alone reframes the experience from something happening to you into a part of your brain you can work with. If you want to see how this applies to worry specifically, I cover it in Neurofeedback for Anxiety.
I trained my own brain for the first time at twenty-eight and got control over my executive function. The most common thing I hear from clients three or four weeks in, after their sleep or stress response shifts, is a simple question: why did no one tell me about this? The tools were fringe twenty years ago and are still rarely taught in medical school. They are not fringe now. Map your brain, read it, and decide which resources you want to train.