A few months ago, I sat down with a new client who had just been deeply traumatized and was in a state of crisis. “What do I do?” she asked. “How do I make the pain stop? Why did this happen? I’ll never get through this, I just know it!” Immediately the old adage “time heals all wounds” came to mind. I carefully chose to take that saying, open up the metaphorical garbage bin in my head, and throw it right the hell out. Lord knows, the last thing my grieving client needed at that moment was to hear me say “give it time.” She felt like her whole world was crumbling. A traumatized person doesn’t want to hear that things take time. They want to hear that they can get some type of relief to the seemingly endless agony that they feel. My heart broke for my client, who wished and begged for there to be a way to reverse what had happened to her. But I didn’t rush her agony. I didn’t try to find a bright side to it all, nor did I tell her that her feelings would change eventually. In that moment, it was important to meet her exactly where she was at. As we sat in my office with her grief and despair, I knew that over time she would have a different perspective on what had happened to her, and that new perspective would change her entire life.
As honored as I was/am to walk this journey with my client, I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the fact that I knew what she was feeling all too well…
It has been about five months since I posted “The Loss of the Living” on my blog: and in case you didn’t read it, I’ll bring you up to speed: About six months ago I lost someone who is still very much alive, and at the time of my loss, I truly thought my world was ending. I was betrayed and violated by someone who I thought cared deeply for me. After the initial impact of the loss, a few people here and there would say “Give it time, you’ll feel better.” and I hated hearing it. I didn’t want time – I wanted ANSWERS. I wanted answers for the abandonment, for the vile words that were spoken about me, and for the completely unprompted betrayal. But I couldn’t find them because my pain was so blinding.
Time hasn’t healed my wound, nor do I believe it ever will. Pain doesn’t disappear over time, it transforms. So while myself and any other grieving person may not experience the same earth-shattering pain that we initially felt at the time of our loss, we still ache in other, more subtle ways. For example:
-Some people who go through breakups and initially feel that they cannot breathe without their ex-partner may realize over time that their partner was actually controlling, abusive, or perhaps the relationship as a whole was not healthy. Their pain can transform from “I can’t breathe without this person.” to “How dare this person abuse me.”
-Parents who lose children to an overdose often take their pain and use it to combat the stigma of addiction and help save others from being lost to drugs. Their pain can transform from “I’ll die without my child here on earth.” to “I’ll never stop missing my child, and I’ll take what time I have left on this planet to save other families from the same fate.”
My pain isn’t gone, but I understand so much more now than I did six months ago. Time has taken the myopic view I had on the situation and has allowed me to see that the woman who hurt me is the epitome of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Time has revealed that, contrary to what I used to believe, this woman is wounded in ways she isn’t capable of accepting, going through life projecting her own insecurities and pain onto everyone she meets. I thank God that our relationship did not last, because I know she would have made me extremely sick.
With my new perspective, I realize that the downfall of our relationship was rooted in one thing: pure, unfiltered envy – envy over the flourishing parts of my life that reminded her of the places in her own life where she still has significant voids. And with every passing day, I learn new information of how I’m still being copied and stalked by this person, who used to make every effort to tear me down and tell me that my ideas and dreams were way too far out of my reach. In understanding this, I am no longer sad over the loss. If anything, I’m thankful she is gone, as my health and wellbeing have significantly improved without her narcissistic presence. The pain remains, but these days, that pain looks so much more like determination. In trying to tear me down, she has made me stronger and healthier than I’ve ever been before – what a shocking turn of events!
So does time truly heal all wounds? No, I wouldn’t say so, and I doubt many other trauma survivors would say so either. It’s how we treat our wounds that matter. Do we nurture them? Do we seek justice? Do we find new perspectives? The answer is different for everyone. Only time will tell. Thus, while time might not heal us, it certainly will tell us all that we need to know.
Oh, and I’d hate to end on a cliffhanger, so suffice it to say this: The client I referred to at the beginning of this post is now the happiest and most confident she has ever been. That is due to new perspectives, not the passing of time.