The Ebb and Flow of Healing

Journal entry from December 2020

Just a few weeks before our divorce was finalized, I felt an intense longing for him. I reached out, but he didn’t respond. The ache of letting go felt unbearable at times, and the silence that followed was almost worse than the pain. The pain of letting go of someone is heart-wrenching. I sit in pain and feel I may not survive it. I can’t seem to let go of hope. I’ve asked God to take hope from me, but I never get relief. Instead, I get hot tears soaking my face. I find myself asking God, “Why doesn’t he love me?” Then I sit in silence, trying to push away the lies that I am not worthy of love. I long for the marriage I prayed for when I was young. I prayed for the husband that I hoped God would bring me someday. Is this what He had in mind? As I sit in silence, I discover more lies rattling around my mind. A big one that is hard to see fully. I can’t see it well enough to form words to say it aloud. I try to focus on it and bring it to the surface, but it moves back into the shadows again as it started to take shape.

I hated the ebb and flow of grief I went through.

To be married to someone for so long that doesn’t want you anymore is so freaking hard.

They say time heals all wounds, and as cliche as that sounds, it is true, but that doesn't mean you never have reminders of the wounds. At only two months post-divorce, the wounds are still very tender for me. I've been in a growth phase for a few weeks now, feeling myself getting stronger. Then, in a sudden snap, I can be back to a low place where I feel the pain again as if it all just happened.

There were my past few days. I was initially triggered by something small, something that might seem insignificant. But as many of us know, it’s rarely about the one moment. It’s about the pattern. And that moment sparked a spiral. It caused me to tell myself a story that was probably not true. I was working to move past it. Then the very next day, another trigger occurred, but this one was bigger. All my feelings about my ex-husband got really confusing, and I felt myself getting swept up in a storm of self-doubt again. I’ve come to call it “boarding the crazy train”, a ride that starts fast and rarely goes anywhere helpful. I continued to spiral through the day until I decided to do something hard and get uncomfortable, and I had a face-to-face discussion with him to allow myself to be transparent about a conversation I had with another person, to share my story. I felt the need to tell him this because I knew they would ask him to do the same.

That conversation didn't serve us, but it did serve me. It allowed the self-doubt to melt away, leaving me with confidence in the decisions I made over the past year. It was exactly what I needed because these triggers caused me to question my experience. I valued and had gratitude for the experience, even though it did ruin part of me that I am still rebuilding. I needed this to pull me off this ride and back on the solid foundation of my faith.

The ebb and flow of moving past trauma are essential parts of growth. Without the flow, we wouldn't believe in our ability to overcome and thrive. Without the moments of ebb, we wouldn't learn to process our pain and feel the things we need to feel. If flowing is all you know...are you really flowing, or are you stuffing it away? I am guilty of that. I did that for years, and it didn't serve me at all. Now I ride with the ebb and flow. I learn from it, and I grow from it.

I am still living in this place, and as time passes, it does get easier. The flow is longer, and the ebb is shorter now. I don't stay in confusion for long, and God always finds a way to show me clarity. I am so grateful for that, and I oftentimes find myself praying for that. When I sink into this place, I have found it to be quite helpful.

Prayer:

I get serious about this. God hears me, and I believe that. Sometimes it feels like He doesn't, because I don’t hear myself. This is a chance to get raw. He knows what I am going through. This time of prayer doesn't always mean I am talking. Sometimes I am listening and feeling. All emotions are healthy emotions when you do it in the presence of a Father who loves you unconditionally.

Support:

The first thing I did was reach out to my two most trusted support friends. My best friend and pseudo-mom is such a gentle comfort for me. Then, my support group leader is there to encourage me a bit so that I can identify my feelings, and she helps me process them. She also does such a great job of validating me while also telling me the truth. Then she pushes me forward.

Gratitude:

I take a deep breath and find gratitude amongst the chaos. At the time, although it was difficult to share my story with a new person, I was thankful for the opportunity to be heard. When done in a healthy way, the vulnerability can help you heal. Gratitude also changes my heart posture to look for the good in these experiences, which protects me from feeling like a victim.

When I do these things, I can ground myself more quickly, and I become more resilient over time as I continue to practice them. A year ago, I never thought I would be in this place, and it felt so surreal as it was happening. I have noticed that it is feeling less surreal and more real as the days go by. This helps me make sense of something that doesn't make sense. God has a plan, and He has me right where He needs me to be. Even on the days when I find myself slipping into confusion or overwhelm, I now know how to find Him in the chaos. If I can learn to seek God when the ride feels rough, I’ll be even more anchored when the path is smooth.

Thank you, Father, for always showing me where I still need to grow.