The Pain of Healing

The healing process is no simple or sweet.  To heal from trauma one grieves the moments of happiness they lost.  Healing forces you to rip off protective scabs and pick away at the true cause of infection.  It’s a bitter process.  Below is a journal entry from a night of my healing when I felt particularly bitter.   I don’t share it because I want pity for my pain.  I share it because I want people to understand that it’s work, damn hard work to get through and heal from brokenness.  I want others to understand that it’s ok to be authentic in this struggle because there IS hope ahead.

“I don’t know what to do.  I have to get out of here- I have to get out of this pain- I have to run.  Feeling hurts just too damn bad- just too damn bad.  How do I do this, how to I get out safely?  How?  How is it ok to feel these feelings?  The pain is so deep it’s as if it will kill me itself.  The knife of despair twists tight against my gut, making every breath a battle.  Why do people choose to feel this?  Why- no – HOW is it supposedly healthy?  How can this much pain be healthy?

I’ve got to run, I’ve got to run, to leave, but there’s no where to go. Stuck. My 5 letter cuss word. STUCK. I feel stuck. Everything I need  to comfort me is just out of reach or off limits. I’m not going to go speed in my car, there’s nothing quiet to hit, I shouldnt drink, I won’t let myself cut, it’s stupid to think that empty sex would fill any void, my prayers feel feeble and I can’t type or write fast enough for the emotion to be expressed at the magnitude it needs to be. There’s no drug, legal or illegal that I’d chose and so I sit. Sit in the pain and try to write as damn fast as I possible can until the moment subsides. Still- the only phrase I can think of to express is low on the intelligence spectrum… F–k it. F–k it all. That’s all I’ve got tonight… Just a fuck basket full of angry and a longing heart waiting for God to comfort me.”

So much of what I was taught growing up was to stuff emotions, to not feel.  I couldn’t feel if I wanted to survive, I just couldn’t.  The emotion would have killed me back then.  So it was good at that time, for me to go numb.  It was necessary.  It’s now far less necessary and I understand that to truly be healthy I must emote… this just happens to be an incredibly painful process for a “newbie” such as me.

May this blog serve as an education to those who do not yet know or understand the atrocities of trafficking and may it serve as an encouragement to those who understand it all too well.

(Post originally written 8/16/12)

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