Living a reclusive life doesn’t mean no opportunity for growth. No matter how I hide it comes knocking, and knocking me down. Those closest offer the greatest opportunity at overcoming long standing behaviors that keep me from my best self.
Instead of pouting, turning off and away with coldness from loved ones who hurt me, the pain and tears come. And come some more. Old wounds not healed, (can they ever be?) are easily made to open causing today’s hurt to compound into pain that doubles me over.
So this is healing. Tears, pain, then more of both. The damage done was that much.
And after the tears, though more leak out over time, there is a lightness and forgiveness for those whose insensitivities caused so much pain. Pain that did not match the circumstances. Pain that went much deeper.
Why does this affect me so? Going there, opening the wounds, allowing the tears even if I don’t at first understand them, frees pain to surface. Bitterness and vengefulness dissipate as each tear falls.
The path is excruciating. There is a girl still hurting… a girl abandoned, a part of me locked up reacting today to anything similar. It is only in going back to take her hand that all of me is present today, deepening the rooms where I dwell, offering a place within that feels good to be in.
Patricia J Grace 
Healing through tears isn’t something that I experience now, only when I first started working with a therapist in my late twenties – the first time I acknowledged the pain of the abuse I endured. I haven’t cried for that little girl since. I thought that, perhaps, my feelings are so repressed that I can’t access them, but perhaps the torrent of tears I expended so long ago was my healing, my release. Now that I’ve reconnected with my brother, perhaps the tears will fall once again. I take courage and strength from the sharing of your pain.
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Reblogged this on I Walk with a Limp.
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