After I wrote the posts for this week, I realized that I shared something similar a few weeks ago in this post and the related growth post. It is a topic weighing heavily on me right now, so I decided to move forward today. I promise that I am sharing new information even though the theme is the same. Those posts focused on what it looks like to choose healing and these focus on being resilient in that choice.
This year, I have been (aggressively) woken up to the fact that I do not have the luxury of waiting on healing. Distance of time can be a part of healing, but expecting it to happen on its own as time goes by is senseless. The aftermath of trauma doesn’t work itself out. Time will not heal my wounds. I have to pursue healing or it will not happen.
When I first left my marriage, I don’t want to say that I was excited to start working on healing, but I certainly had fervor and drive to go after it. I was free physically, and I wanted to be free in every other way. It felt like nothing could stop me. My eyes were set on a healthy me, and I didn’t care if anyone was validating my feelings or decisions. I knew what I knew, and I was running toward freedom.
-side note: for many decisions, there is wisdom in listening to what your friends and loved ones may have to say. They provide a different point of view and insight that you may not have. Unfortunately, when leaving an abuser, this is not always the case. Very few, if any, other people will have witnessed the behavior that you experienced at home. They may wonder if you are lying, defend the abuser, question your decision to leave, blame you for the abuser’s actions, or blame you for the dissolution of the relationship. You know what you know. No one else needs to approve the actions that you take for your own safety.
I am so sorry if you are in a position without a support system. I understand how hurtful it can be when people you love don’t believe you or make you feel as though you have to prove the abuse. I understand how rejected you can feel when loved ones say or do things that communicate that they are choosing the abuser over you. I am especially sorry if it is your community of faith that is questioning you instead of providing comfort and refuge. Everyone deserves a church that is a safe space.
As time went on, I began to feel lucky if I had days pass that I didn’t think about the horrific life I had left. It felt like a sign that I was entering a new life. And then my mind would slap me in the face. HARD. Because I don’t get a new life. I get to work on the one I have. A Re.defined life. I started a new chapter, but the rest of the book isn’t erased. On those days, I wasn’t taking a healthy break to live in the moment and find rest (rest is part of healing too), I was stuffing my past away and pretending it was no longer there.
I can feel frustrated when people say things like, “don’t fixate on the past,” “you’ll never move forward if you keep looking back,” “healing means letting go of your past.” You have no idea how much I would love to face forward and walk, leaving it all behind. It isn’t that those sayings are unwise; it’s just not that simple. If I don’t go back and heal myself in those memories, they come back at me. They haunt my dreams. They stop me in my tracks, playing like a movie in my mind, and it doesn’t matter if I close my eyes or open them. They steal present moments from me.
Robbing today because I didn’t look back at yesterday.
Healing from years of ongoing trauma is not a weekend retreat, a few counseling sessions, a six-week course, or a couple of months of acting like it never happened. No matter how much I try to will it away, my past isn’t going anywhere. In fact, it’s entangling my future. Like a ball of yarn thrown around to create a colossal mess with knots and complications. I wish I could take a giant pair of scissors and just cut through it. But that’s not how it works. I have to carefully hold a section at a time, unweaving and untying, freeing little parts of me.
Choosing to heal is hard work, but every time I release a knot, I feel victorious. I feel stronger. More resilient. Capable of taking another step.
Lately, I have felt tired. My heart has grown weary. I recently told God that whatever He is trying to do in me, I don’t want it anymore. I don’t have the faith to continue. I told Him that I am tired of healing. I am tired of being strong. I am tired of putting one foot in front of the other. He gently reminded me of Jeremiah 31. The entire chapter is worth reading if you feel this way too, but I’ll highlight verse 25; “For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.”
If my words above felt close to you, I really encourage you to read scripture. You can Google verses about rest, feeling weary, needing strength, or having faith. Find a few that speak to you in your season and handwrite them in a journal or on a card to post to the wall. God will speak to you. He is faithful.
I only need faith the size of a mustard seed. His body and His blood will sustain me. His promise of strength never fails. He will carry my burden and make my yolk light. I am in His hands. His comfort and peace know no bounds. I can find rest in Him.
On Wednesday, I’ll post about some of the practices that have helped me to be Re.silient in my pursuit of healing.
Leave a comment with a scripture that connects with you.
Related Posts
