You’re doing everything right.
Weekly therapy sessions. Journaling. Practising your breathing exercises. You show up, you do the work, you try so hard.
And yet… You still wake up anxious. Still shut down when conversations get intense. Still feel like you’re dragging that weight around, no matter how many times you’ve talked about your past.
“Why isn’t this working?” you think, leaving another session feeling more exhausted than relieved.
Sound familiar?
Here’s what’s true: If trauma therapy isn’t helping, it’s not because you’re not trying hard enough or doing it wrong. Healing from trauma is complex, and sometimes the approach itself needs adjusting, not you.
The good news? Feeling stuck doesn’t mean recovery is out of reach. It might just mean it’s time to understand why progress has stalled and try something different.
In this guide, we’ll explore why trauma therapy sometimes plateaus (or even backfires), and what you can do when you’re tired of spinning your wheels. Because healing isn’t a straight line, but with the correct map and maybe a new route, you can get moving again.
When Therapy Feels “Stuck” – What Does That Mean?
Therapy isn’t always dramatic breakthroughs or steady upward climbs.
Often, it’s subtle. Slow. Until it’s not.
“Stuck” therapy might look like months of no real improvement. Or feeling worse, more exhausted, more overwhelmed than when you started. You might dread sessions. Leave them emotionally drained with no sense of relief.
Maybe you find yourself putting on a brave face in front of your therapist, saying you’re “fine” when you’re anything but. Or rehashing the same stories without feeling any lighter, like the insights you gain don’t translate to change in your daily life.
It makes sense that you’d feel frustrated.
Here’s the thing… you’re not the only one who’s hit a wall in therapy. Psychological therapy doesn’t help everyone equally. Studies show that about 16–21% of people in trauma-focused treatments drop out early. Among those who stick with it, roughly one in three don’t experience complete recovery from PTSD symptoms.
So, how do you know if therapy is truly not working? Watch for these tell-tale signs:
- Zero progress over many months. If you’ve been tackling the same problem for a long time with no progress, that’s a red flag.
- Dreading sessions or feeling unsafe with your therapist. If you feel judged or misunderstood and find yourself hiding things from them out of fear of their reaction, something’s off.
- Constantly feeling worse between sessions with no tools to cope. Yes, therapy can stir up pain—it sometimes feels worse before better. But your therapist should help you understand and manage that turbulence. If you’re feeling raw and rudderless week after week, that’s concerning.
Effective therapy usually produces some glimmers of change. You may be sleeping better. Handling a trigger with slightly more grace. Feeling a shade more hopeful.
If absolutely none of those subtle shifts are happening over a long period? It may be time to rethink your approach.
The takeaway: Feeling stuck isn’t a personal failure. It’s a signal.
It suggests that the current therapeutic approach might not be the right fit, or that some unseen barrier is hindering progress.
Why Trauma Therapy Can Stall: Common Causes of “It’s Not Working”
When you’ve been doing “all the right things” in therapy and not seeing results, it’s natural to ask why.
In truth, there are several well-recognised reasons trauma-focused therapy might not be delivering relief. Understanding these can reassure you that you’re not “crazy” or doomed. There’s a logic to the struggle. And with that insight comes the power to change course.
Here are some common culprits that can lead to stalled progress. See if any of these rings true for you.
Mismatched Modality or Approach
Not all therapy is one-size-fits-all, especially for trauma.
You may be engaging in traditional talk therapy (such as CBT) when your nervous system actually requires something different, like a body-based or exposure approach. Trauma experts note that talk-only methods often “speak a different language” than the part of the brain hurt by trauma.
Research shows that while talk therapies can help PTSD, they’re “just not effective a lot of the time” for trauma recovery. It doesn’t mean therapy in general doesn’t work. It means if one approach isn’t clicking, another modality might.
Some people plateau with cognitive therapy but make strides with EMDR (a trauma reprocessing therapy), or vice versa.
If the therapy style doesn’t match your needs, you can spend a long time treading water. It’s like trying to tune a radio to the wrong frequency. The signal never comes in clear.
Over-Reliance on Insight (Talking About Feelings vs. Feeling Them)
Many of us place a great deal of emphasis on insight. Figuring out why we are the way we are. Insight is valuable. But on its own? It’s not the magic key to healing trauma.
You might intellectually understand your past and your triggers and still feel unchanged by that understanding. As one psychologist put it, “Insight can help us feel better about ourselves. But it is not the same as healing.” In other words, knowing the origin of your pain is one thing. Processing that pain is another.
Trauma isn’t stored as a neat story in the logical part of your brain. It lives in raw emotions and body sensations. That’s why you can “know” something isn’t your fault but still feel the shame or fear in your gut.
In therapy, if you spend all your time talking around your trauma without ever safely feeling and releasing the emotions, you may hit a wall. Research shows that emotion—not just rational insight—is the driving force behind healing in therapy.
Sometimes we do this to protect ourselves (or our therapist) from our big emotions. But healing from trauma often requires experiencing those emotions in a supported way so they can finally move through you, rather than stay stuck.
Nervous System Overwhelm (“Too Much, Too Soon”)
On the flip side of not feeling enough in therapy? Feeling way too much.
Trauma is tricky. Suppose we dive into the deep end of traumatic memories without enough safety and grounding. In that case, we can flood our nervous system and actually retraumatise ourselves or shut down.
Ever left a session feeling like a raw nerve? Triggered to the point of panic or numbness?
That’s your nervous system saying, “Whoa, this is beyond my tolerance.”
Neuroscience tells us that when trauma is activated, our brains flip into survival mode. The limbic system (the emotional brain) takes over, stress hormones spike, and our rational brain (prefrontal cortex) goes offline. In this state of hyperarousal (anxiety, panic) or hypoarousal (numbness, shutdown), we literally can’t process or integrate new information. We’re in fight/flight/freeze, not learning mode.
So if therapy repeatedly pushes you past your “window of tolerance”—forcing detailed retelling of trauma before you feel safe—it might backfire. You could end up feeling more overwhelmed and symptomatic than before.
One review of trauma survivors’ therapy experiences noted that many felt overwhelmed and blindsided by intense emotions. Some had worsening nightmares and flashbacks initially. Without proper pacing, they described therapy as “life-consuming” and considered quitting because it was just too much.
The goal is to find that sweet spot where you’re challenged enough to heal, but not so much that you’re drowning.
“Good Client” Syndrome (People-Pleasing and Fawning in Therapy)
Trauma survivors are often masters of people-pleasing. It was a survival skill, after all. In therapy, this can show up as Good Client Syndrome. Feeling like you have to be the “perfect patient” for your therapist. You might smile and nod. Minimise your pain. Avoid expressing anger or dissatisfaction. Essentially, pretending to be “okay” to please your therapist (or avoid overwhelming them).
This often stems from a fawn response to trauma; appeasing others kept you safe in the past.
The problem in therapy? If you’re busy attuning to your therapist’s feelings instead of your own, the real issues never get aired.
One therapist notes that “fawn-oriented clients are often attuned to everyone except themselves.” They may appear super agreeable and “easy,” but inside, they’re not getting what they need.
If you feel afraid to tell your therapist that something isn’t helping, or you’re holding back tears because you don’t want to be “too much,” this dynamic could be in play. It can seriously stall progress. Your therapist might incorrectly think everything’s fine or stay on a surface level.
Healing requires authenticity and trust in the therapy room. You deserve to take up space there.
Weak Therapeutic Alliance
Sometimes, it comes down to a good fit with the therapist.
Trauma recovery primarily hinges on feeling safe, seen, and supported by your therapist. Research consistently shows that a strong therapeutic alliance (the bond and collaboration between client and therapist) is one of the best predictors of positive outcomes in PTSD therapy.
If that alliance is shaky—say, you don’t feel your therapist “gets” you, or there’s a lack of trust or warmth—it’s like trying to heal your deepest wounds in a room where you don’t feel completely safe.
Misattunement can be subtle or overt. Perhaps your therapist talks too much and doesn’t listen. Or they push you when you’re not ready. Or they dismiss your cultural or background experiences.
There may be no glaring issue, but the chemistry or connection isn’t there. The result? You might hold back. Or internally shut down. Which means therapy stays stuck.
Studies have found that unresolved ruptures in the therapist-client relationship (like a breach of trust that isn’t repaired) predict worse treatment outcomes for trauma. On the other hand, when you have a strong alliance, you’re more likely to stick with therapy through the tough parts and make real progress.
These are some of the usual suspects when therapy isn’t delivering. Often, more than one is at play. (A modality mismatch and a weak alliance can unfortunately go hand-in-hand.)
The empowering thing? Each of these issues has a solution or alternative.
Trauma therapy can be adjusted, rethought, or reimagined in ways that reopen the path to healing.
Why Trauma Is Especially Complex to Heal: It’s Not “Just Talking”
If you’re feeling stuck, here’s what you need to know: trauma is not like a regular life problem that you can simply talk through and rationalise away.
Trauma resides in the body and is deeply ingrained in the emotional brain. It changes how your nervous system operates, which in turn affects how you respond to therapy.
In short, trauma is complex. Knowing a bit about this complexity can help validate why your healing journey has ups, downs, and zigzags. Here are a few key reasons trauma therapy can be more complicated than expected.
Your Brain and Body Remember, Even If You Don’t
Traumatic experiences essentially rewire your nervous system into a chronic state of alarm.
The brain’s fear centre (the amygdala) becomes hyper-vigilant. The memory of trauma is stored in a fragmented, sensory form (smells, sights, and body sensations) rather than a neat, verbal story. Meanwhile, the part of the brain that enables us to put experiences into words (the prefrontal cortex) often goes offline under stress.
This is why you might “know” you’re safe now, yet your body reacts like it’s back in danger at the slightest trigger. Why certain smells or sounds send you into panic. Why you shut down and dissociate when conversations get too intense.
Trauma can cause limbic system dominance. Your emotional brain is running the show, and talking calmly (a top-down approach) may not reach the places that are screaming or frozen inside.
As one trauma specialist put it, when you encounter reminders of trauma, “your nervous system moves from a state of safety to a state of protection.” And in that protective state, you can’t simply think your way out. Understanding this, we see why “just talking about it” isn’t always enough. If therapy doesn’t engage the survival brain and body where the trauma resides, the deepest wounds remain untouched.
Trauma Responses Are Physiological (Not Just Emotional)
Ever had your heart race, palms sweat, or felt an icy numbness during a therapy session when discussing trauma? That’s because trauma is as much about the body as the mind.
Terms like hyperarousal (fight-or-flight activation) and hypoarousal (freeze or shutdown) describe how trauma yanks you out of your calm, social state. A question from your therapist about your past might suddenly make you dissociate (mentally float away) or have a pounding heart and racing thoughts.
This isn’t you being “difficult.” It’s your nervous system hitting the panic button.
Neuroscience and polyvagal theory explain that we have an automatic ladder of responses: in safety, we can connect and think, in danger, we fight or flee, and in extreme threat, we freeze or collapse. Trauma often traps people in those lower rungs—stuck revving high (anxious, on-edge) or stuck frozen (numb, depressed).
If your therapy doesn’t incorporate ways to soothe and regulate your nervous system, you might be physiologically unable to benefit from deeper processing.
That’s why modern trauma therapy often uses grounding techniques, breathing exercises, movement, or other body-based practices to help expand your “window of tolerance.” The zone in which you can feel and think at the same time.
Without addressing the body’s state, therapy may remain an intellectual exercise that fails to reach the core of the issue. Or conversely, an overwhelming flood that retraumatises.
“Talking” Doesn’t Automatically Equal Integrating
A common misconception: talking about a trauma equals healing it.
In reality, there’s a difference between recounting a traumatic event and resolving it internally. Many trauma survivors can tell their story in a way that seems okay. Maybe you’ve even done the “trauma narrative” in therapy. But you’re still plagued by nightmares, startle responses, or deep emotional pain.
Why?
Because proper integration of trauma involves linking the rational story with emotional and sensory memories in a context of safety. If you merely recount what happened, as if you’re reading a news report, you might be depersonalising it as a way to cope. The emotional brain isn’t actually processing it.
On the other hand, if you plunge into reliving it with whole emotion but no support, it can feel just as bad as the original trauma.
Integration means the trauma memory gets filed correctly in the brain’s past tense, not continually looping in the present. To do this often requires approaches that engage more than words—sometimes imagery, bilateral stimulation (in EMDR), body sensation awareness, or experiencing emotions with a sense of safety.
Experts say trauma treatment often needs a bottom-up component (body and subconscious), not just a top-down (cognitive) approach.
In summary, talking about trauma is a starting point. But healing comes from working with how trauma feels in the body and how it skews your reactions, not just the narrative of what happened.
Complex Trauma Adds Layers
Suppose you’re dealing with complex trauma (prolonged childhood abuse or neglect, multiple traumas, or trauma in relationships). In that case, therapy can be even more nonlinear.
Complex trauma often means attachment wounds. The very people who were supposed to protect you caused harm. This can make the therapy relationship itself a trigger or a repair ground. Often both.
You may struggle to trust your therapist, or, conversely, become overly attached and fear displeasing them. (Tying back to that fawn response.)
Complex trauma can also splinter the psyche into different “parts” or modes of being. A vulnerable child part. A protective, angry part. A people-pleaser part. Simply doing standard talk therapy with your “adult” self might not address the needs of those wounded inner parts.
That’s why parts-based therapy like Internal Family Systems (IFS) has gained traction for trauma; it directly works with those inner facets.
Likewise, complex trauma might require a phase-based approach: first focusing on safety and stabilisation (learning to calm your body, manage symptoms), then processing trauma memories, and finally integrating into daily life.
If therapy skips a phase (i.e. diving into trauma memory work when you’re not stabilised), it can stall or cause a crisis. On the other hand, staying forever in “stabilisation” and never processing can also stall progress.
It’s a delicate balance.
The key point: trauma (especially complex trauma) often calls for body-based, parts-based, and attachment-focused tools. Not just straightforward talk or analysis.
It’s complex. But the upshot is you may need more than insight and willpower to heal. You should involve your body, rewire survival responses, and even allow the therapy relationship to serve as a healing experience, not just an intellectual exchange.
All of this explains why you might have been doing everything “right” and still not feel relief.
Healing trauma is like untangling a knot made of mind, body, and heartstrings. If we only tug at one strand, the knot stays intact.
The encouraging news? There are innovative, evidence-backed approaches tailored to trauma’s complexity. If your current therapy isn’t reaching those tangled threads, consider some of the trauma-informed tools in the next section that could make the difference.
Getting Unstuck: Trauma-Informed Approaches That Can Help When You’ve Hit a Wall
So, what can you do when you feel like you’re spinning your wheels in therapy? The answer might be to try a different road.
In recent years, a “golden age” of trauma therapy has blossomed, bringing forward new or refined approaches that go beyond traditional talk therapy. These methods aim to engage the body, the deeper emotions, and even altered states of consciousness to help trauma survivors find relief. Here are some trauma-informed tools and strategies you might consider when progress has stalled.
Somatic Experiencing and Body-Based Therapies
“The body keeps the score,” as the saying goes. And somatic therapies help your body release that score. Somatic Experiencing (developed by Dr Peter Levine) and similar body-focused approaches guide you to pay attention to your internal sensations and gently discharge the pent-up “fight or flight” energy from past trauma.
Instead of only talking about what happened, you might notice a tightness in your chest or a trembling in your legs, and allow that to move through (with the therapist’s support). This can reset your overwhelmed nervous system.
There’s growing evidence for somatic approaches. One study found that just one to two sessions of somatic therapy significantly increased resilience and reduced trauma symptoms, with a lasting effect. Another study showed a sharp reduction in PTSD symptoms, pain, and disability after somatic therapy, plus reductions in fear and anxiety.
These therapies often differ significantly from traditional talk therapy. They may involve mindfulness, breathing exercises, movement, or even techniques like TRE (tension and trauma releasing exercises) or sensorimotor psychotherapy.
The goal? To help your body complete the defensive reactions that were thwarted during trauma, and to teach your nervous system how to return to a calm baseline.
Many people who didn’t get better with years of talk therapy find that somatic work finally accesses the wordless trauma stored in their body, leading to breakthroughs.
If you’re someone who has felt stuck in your head rehashing trauma, learning to “speak the body’s language” might unlock a new level of healing.
Parts Work (Internal Family Systems – IFS)
Have you ever felt like part of you wants to heal and move on, but another part of you is scared or self-sabotaging? That’s a widespread experience, especially in complex trauma.
Internal Family Systems therapy, or IFS, is an evidence-based modality that treats those inner sub-personalities (your “parts”) with compassion and understanding.
Rather than seeing yourself as a single, monolithic personality, IFS suggests that it’s normal to have different parts of yourself.
- An angry protector.
- A wounded child part.
- A people-pleaser.
- A perfectionist manager.
In trauma, some parts might be stuck in the past, still holding extreme pain or beliefs. Talk therapy that engages only your logical adult might never reach those parts of you. IFS offers a way to “invite all your parts to the table.” With an IFS-trained therapist, you learn to identify and communicate with these parts of yourself.
For example, instead of berating your self-sabotaging behaviour, you’d get curious about the part of you that is causing it. Often, it’s a protective part trying (in an outdated way) to keep you safe from harm. By honouring each part’s role and gently healing the wounded ones, IFS helps your inner system achieve balance.
Many trauma survivors find this “parts work” incredibly validating. It makes sense of why you can feel so conflicted internally. Clinically, it has shown considerable promise. Therapists report that IFS can reduce internal conflict and help integrate traumatic memories in a very safe, paced way (since no part is forced or ignored).
If you suspect that hidden inner dynamics are stalling your progress (like having one foot on the gas and one on the brake internally), IFS might be a game-changer. It’s like family therapy for your soul. Bringing harmony among your inner family members so they stop inadvertently holding you back.
EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing)
EMDR is one of the most well-known trauma therapies, recommended in international guidelines for PTSD. It’s not a traditional talk therapy. In EMDR, you briefly focus on traumatic memories while simultaneously doing bilateral stimulation (often eye movements, following the therapist’s finger, or tapping alternately on each hand). This dual process helps the brain reprocess stuck traumatic memories and reduce their emotional intensity.
Many people describe EMDR as being faster or more effective than traditional talk therapy. Memories that felt overwhelmingly painful can become more distant and manageable after EMDR, almost like the brain can “digest” what happened.
If you’ve been in talk therapy for ages and feel like you intellectually understand your trauma, but it still feels raw, EMDR might help bridge that gap.
Research has shown EMDR can be highly effective for PTSD, even in fewer sessions than other therapies in some cases. It’s thought to tap into similar mechanisms as REM sleep (when our eyes move and our brain naturally processes memories). One thing to note: EMDR still requires a foundation of safety and stabilisation. You need to be in your window of tolerance for it to work. However, a skilled EMDR therapist will ensure that you have coping techniques in place first.
If you’re feeling stuck rehashing the same story without resolution, EMDR could be worth exploring. A different way to approach traumatic memories that doesn’t require you to talk about every detail over and over.
Polyvagal-Informed Therapy and Nervous System Regulation
Sometimes, the issue isn’t the trauma memory itself but the habitual state of your nervous system. If you’re constantly anxious, on edge, or alternately numb and depressed, learning to regulate those states is key.
Polyvagal theory (developed by Stephen Porges) has given therapists a roadmap to understand and work with the autonomic nervous system. Simply put, it’s about shifting your system out of a defensive state (fight/flight or freeze) into a state of safety (“rest and digest” or social engagement mode). Therapies based on this might teach you practical techniques:
- Controlled breathing exercises, deep belly breathing to signal safety to your vagus nerve
- Humming or singing to stimulate the social engagement nerves
- Grounding exercises that orient you to the present (looking around the room and noticing you’re safe here and now)
- Certain types of yoga or mindful movement can tone the vagus nerve and expand that window of tolerance
The idea is to practice bottom-up calming, so that your body learns it’s safe now.
For trauma survivors, especially those with chronic PTSD or complex trauma, having a toolkit of regulation skills can make all the difference in therapy. Instead of spiralling into panic or shutting down in a session (or afterwards), you can use these skills to stay present.
Some therapists incorporate biofeedback or neurofeedback to help you gain awareness and control over your physiological responses. The benefit of polyvagal-informed strategies is that they empower you to shift your state in real time.
Over time, this can reduce symptoms like chronic anxiety, hypervigilance, and emotional overwhelm.
When (and How) to Change Course: Finding What Works for You
Knowing the possible solutions is empowering. But it also raises practical questions.
- How do I know when it’s time to change therapists or try a new modality? How can I tell if I should persist with my current therapy or pivot to something else?
These are essential questions. And only you truly know what you’re feeling. However, here are some guidelines to help you evaluate your path.
Check the Signs of Progress (or Lack Thereof)
Minor signs of progress in therapy include things like connecting meanings to your hardships, having new insights, or noticing life shifts (even tiny ones).
For example, do you feel even a little more empowered or aware than you did a few months ago? Are you handling stress better, or catching negative thoughts a little more?
These are green flags that, despite frustration, something is slowly shifting. On the other hand, if you take stock and realise you’re in precisely the same dark place (or worse) as a year ago, with no notable improvements? That’s a red flag.
Feeling chronically worse with no tools or hope from the process is a sign that it may be time to change the approach.
Consider the Timeline and Your Goals
Therapy is not an overnight fix. Trauma therapy, especially, can take time (often months or years for deep healing).
So, one question to ask: Have I given this enough time to work?
If you’ve only been doing 6 sessions of a new approach, you might need more patience.
If it’s been many months of no progress on a particular goal (your panic attacks are just as frequent), it might be worth trying something new.
Sometimes reevaluating your goals with your therapist can shed light. Maybe your goal was unrealistic (never feel anxiety again), and adjusting expectations could help. Or the goal is fine, but the method to get there needs tweaking.
Talk to Your Therapist About Being Stuck
A good therapist will want to know if you feel therapy isn’t working.
It can be hard to bring up (especially if you have that people-pleasing streak), but voicing your feelings of being stuck can actually be a productive turning point. There may be a blockage the therapist wasn’t aware of, and together you can troubleshoot. Try a new technique, or increase session frequency for a while, or refocus the approach.
A conscientious therapist might even refer you to someone else or incorporate adjunct methods if they agree that things are stalled.
This conversation can also test the therapeutic alliance: if your therapist responds defensively or dismissively, that’s information. Ideally, they’ll respond with openness, validating your experience and brainstorming options.
Remember, you are the consumer of a service. It’s okay to advocate for your needs. Therapy is a collaboration, not a doctor issuing orders. If you already suspect the alliance is part of the problem (you don’t fully trust this therapist), discussing your feelings may or may not fix that. But it’s a courageous step to take for yourself.
Don’t Be Afraid to Seek a Second Opinion or Switch Therapists
In medical care, if a treatment isn’t working, we often seek a second opinion. Therapy can be the same. You may want to consult another trauma specialist for one or two sessions to gain their perspective on your situation. Sometimes, a fresh set of eyes can identify a blind spot or suggest an approach your current therapist isn’t trained in.
And yes, sometimes switching therapists is the best course of action.
This isn’t a failure. It can be the most self-honouring choice you make.
Different therapists have different styles, and you might click with someone else in a way that ignites progress. As one article put it, “It’s not uncommon to work with several therapists before finding one who is the best fit… If you need to change your therapist, it’s not a failure.”
Of course, it can be tough to end with a therapist, especially if you care about their feelings. But any ethical therapist knows that ultimately it’s about what works for you.
When you do switch, take what you learned (even if it was what didn’t help) and use that knowledge to find someone who offers what you need. Perhaps more warmth, or more structure, or a specific skill set, such as EMDR or somatic work.
Adjust Your Expectations and Be Kind to Yourself
Sometimes, feeling stuck comes from comparing yourself to some imagined timeline of healing. You might think, “I’ve been in therapy for a year, I should be over this by now.”
Healing doesn’t work on a schedule.
It’s absolutely okay (and normal) that it takes time and that it’s nonlinear. Healing isn’t linear—truly. Often it’s two steps forward, one step back. (Or one forward, one back, one sideways.)
Research in trauma therapy shows that progress can look messy and cyclical: “healing is layered, not sequential… emotional memory is stored non-linearly.” So we tend to revisit themes we thought we’d resolved, each time at a slightly deeper level.
The key is not to let discouragement make you give up on healing altogether. Take breaks if you need. Adjust the pace. But know that many people who now thrive had periods in therapy where they too felt nothing was changing, right before a significant breakthrough.
What To Do Next
If you’re feeling stuck, don’t give up on yourself. Talk to your therapist about what you’ve learned here. Seek a consultation for a fresh perspective. Try one small new practice (maybe a breathing exercise or a journal prompt to a “part” of you) this week.
Healing from trauma is a journey, and you’re already on the road. You may need a different vehicle or a new travelling companion for the next stretch. It’s okay to change course. In fact, it can be the bravest, healthiest decision you make.
References
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