When the hurt sets in we want it fixed, gone, poof, pill, drink, video game, movie, binging Game of Thrones, meditation, drawing, coffee, walking, gym, friends, family … anything. Any fix. Right now. Distraction. Numbing. Silence. Dark.
The realization that healing is slow and ongoing is a rotten kind of pain. There is no immediacy, no epiphany, no music montage of transformation. It’s work and a slog and so frustrating.
I got a dog in May of 2017. Malnourished and sickly. Skin infections and scared. It’s been a year and a half and she is SO MUCH BETTER, but still continues to heal and improve. Eighteen months and her healing is still not complete. Maybe never will be … maybe what looks like healing now is just growing and changing. Perhaps we are never healed, always healing, always growing.
Someone I love almost died in December – almost gave in to the overwhelming fear that hurt lasts forever and that healing isn’t possible. Almost walked away from any opportunity for growth because they felt too exhausted to keep trying, tricked by depression and despair and rejection into thinking that day of hurt was the best their life would ever be.
I am so grateful they were unsuccessful in their suicide attempt and so frightened for them and so hopeful that ANYONE who feels this kind of pain knows they can reach out for help – there are friends and family and services available. You are not alone, don’t let your emotions fool you.
You are not alone.
Slow to Heal artwork is available in my etsy shop.