A German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche created a famous philosophy, “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.” While I believe this to be true, some days it just does not feel that way. Some days the scars that life has left on my mind and soul do not remind me that I am a stronger person now. Some days they rip wide open and bleed again.
My husband started traveling again this past week. He was home for an entire month and it was amazing. I almost had myself tricked into thinking that the traveling would perhaps be done. Funny. It has started again. Before he left I tried telling myself that it would be easier this time. I thought over and over that I was going to be ok this time. As hard as it is to not have him here physically, in that he isn't home to help, to see, to talk to. When he goes, mentally and emotionally I fall into a whirl wind of pains from the past. I am grateful that I can recognize what my mind is doing. It is crazy how powerful the mind truly is, and it is scary when coupled with a vivid imagination.
All it takes is one tiny trigger. One tiny bump in my expectations and I fall into what feels like an uncontrollable emotional state. I go through all the stages. Feeling abandonment, sadness, anxiety, anger, depression, and finally acceptance. I wish I could derail my mental train sooner and avoid all of the pain and suffering but I haven't figured out how yet. I have all of the tools, I know the ways to, but for some reason I resist. Another lesson I learned from counseling is that resistance + pain = suffering. So, instead of getting a handle on my reactive mind, I suffer. In my opinion the exhaustion that comes with it weakens my acceptance and fuels my imagination. Making myself rest and recover with six littles is not always easy during my single mom days. Instead, I struggle to survive through the post-traumatic stress. Until my husband returns home I feel constant unease. I slip back into dark places. I want to give up because feeling all of these horrible feelings is almost unbearable.
That is when I feel weak. That is when I do not believe this philosophy. That is when I pray that my husband will do all in his power to help me heal.
Healing is a painful business. I remember reading about the painful treatment of a burn victim and how they clean and dress the wounds. Each day they have to scrub the dying skin off of the wound in order to prevent infection and to promote healing and growth of new skin cells. That is what I relate the mental and emotional healing process to. It hurts. It is slow. It has to be repeated over and over again until all that is left is healthy flourishing growth. You have to scrub and work through the pain in order to promote growth.
That is where I believe this philosophy to be true. Each small step toward healing has made me stronger, even if the pain from the layers below still resurface. I continue to scrub out the bad even when it hurts. I continue to ask for a hand to hold even if that means exposing my pain.
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