Healing The Hurt...

Today I’m cleaning out my closet, or at least a small corner of it. My closets pretty big so it’s going to take a few Wednesday’s like this one to truly get out all that needs to be boxed up and taken out. For me, the idea of this brought up a lot of feelings and thoughts, some good, some bad, some very painful and others very, very hard to swallow but nonetheless, I was flooded with almost every emotion that my body could conjure up. Funny thing is, ever since For The Love Of Blogs first mentioned that they were turning Wednesday’s into sort of a “confessional” day I had been excited about it but now that it’s actually here… it seems very REAL.

For years I had suppressed a lot of hurt and pain that happened in my youth, most events of my early childhood I really don’t even remember because, well as the Doctors and Psychologist put it, people have a tendency to unconsciously force their minds to erase things that are too painful to deal with. I mastered this skill by the age of 5.  My family has often been hurt that I have no memory of my childhood, only bits and pieces and most of those I have trouble deciphering from possibly something I dreamed about or actual real events that happened, (another side effect of suppressing memories).

I think it really hurts my Mom when I call and say “Hey, I had a thought of a time when I was 6 and we went to a horse farm and had a great day, but I was wondering if this really happened or if maybe it was something I dreamed about last night?”

Seems when you suppress the bad, parts of the good get tossed in there as well. Don’t get me wrong, my childhood wasn’t all bad, but yes there were things that happened to me that I can only remember because I was told that they happened not because I actually remember them.

Anyway, I’m not here to force myself to think about all of these things but I’m here because all my life I have been told that it helps to write about your feelings, it’s a way of releasing bottled up emotions and sort of freeing yourself from being held “captive” by it. Here’s the thing, I’m a strong believer in God and that being said I don’t believe that I’m being held captive by anything. However, some of the things that happened to me have caused me to struggle a lot with trusting people and believing that others could actually want to love me. Because of this the first 5 or so years of the relationship with my husband were very touch and go, but the blessing in this storm is that he stood by me through it all! Through the years I stayed distant and caution of him, not because he was doing anything but because I struggled to believe he or anyone else could truly love me, even after all those years of him being there I still had my guard up.

WOW, how on earth did he put up with this? How could he have married someone so scared to love or be loved? When we first started dating he told me he was going to show me that he was different and that he loved me no matter what, I laughed as if he was joking and 11 years later, he still stands by my side loving me more than ever… I felt sad so many times during our relationship because I wondered why I couldn’t just be “normal”.  I told him over and over again to go find someone else because I wanted him to be happy but he'd just say, "I am happy"… I hate that I’m sitting here right now  with tears running down my cheeks but I guess that’s part of the cleaning process... you laugh, you cry, you throw things, then you get up, have a cup of coffee and get back to work! So I conclude by saying, “Let the healing begin!”

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