Through the Pain

Emotional abuse is a lot like shingles. Like the disease, not the things you put on the roof.
When shingles begin, you feel badly, have a horrible headache.  In my case, I was thinking that I was going to have a stroke it was so bad.  But, you don't know what's causing it.  You don't know why you feel how you do.  Nobody looks at you and knows you are sick.  You aren't sure what is wrong...just that SOMETHING is wrong.  Then, finally, it starts to show.  And you cover it up.  It's ugly.  It reflects on you.  On your abilities.  With shingles, it is awful looking.  Blisters, swollen, red.  I covered it with my hair combed just right.  It was actually a cute style.  Dress to draw the eye away from what is wrong.  Same in abuse.  Cover it up, feel ashamed.  Why?  Don't know.  Embarrassed.  Still don't know why.  Try to do everything to get it to go away quickly.  To make things better.  But, like shingles, emotional abuse doesn't just suddenly go away.  And, what is worse than how bad that rash starts to look is how badly the nerve pain hurts.  It's like that with emotional abuse.  Others looking might see a few dings.  A few things that they wonder about, but they don't see the huge pain going on. And it's so hard to describe that it hardly seems worth it after you try a couple of times and people just don't get it.  And after awhile, outwardly, everything can look ok.  But the residual damage and pain can last for months.  Years even.  For some people, forever.  And emotional abuse feels that way.  A voice in the head.  A lifestyle.  Pain that remains and shoots up when you least expect it.  And even if it doesn't last, there is the deep seated fear that it might.  That your life might never be the same again....and all because....I'm not sure.
Not because you did something wrong or bad.  It's not a consequence of not having tried hard enough.  It just...happens sometimes.
In my days dealing with the disease of shingles, I am actually learning more about how to deal with the disease of emotional abuse.  It looks harmless from the outside.  I think that many times only the people living with it can get it.  It's a lonely kind of abuse.  Not like someone broke your arm and the police are going to go arrest them.  No.  It's insidious.
My husband has lived for years doing and being who he is without looking like he's hurting anyone.  And I did my best to use my voice.  To say what I needed.  To help myself.  To help him.  To cover and honor.  But there comes a point where I just have to say....I have this disease and it's not catching and it looks ugly or it's something that you can't see at all...but it's there.  And it hurts.  A lot.  And while I can't make you understand it or experience it, I would very much appreciate your love and compassion.
Through this physical pain, I am learning a lot about my emotional pain.  Like....how rest is imperative.  How I have to get over hoping that people will understand.  That some people will help.  And some people will hurt.  Even when they don't mean to.  Especially when they don't mean to. But I can't be responsible to make them all feel better.  I am the one suffering.  I don't have to fix it so that they feel more comfortable.  And if they can't handle that now and again......then they probably really don't give a darn about me anyway.
I'm learning about taking care of myself.  How it matters.  Good food.  Nutrition.  Exercise not as a competition or an obsession, but as a healing agent.
And I'm learning how it takes time.  Much more time than I want it to.  And a lot of things don't get done.  And I want people to know that though it's on my mind and though that is the person I am...who likes it to be nicer around my house and likes to get things accomplished....well, I just can't. Oh well.  Take me or leave me.
And I'm learning that all different people have all different gifts in helping and healing.  Some feed me.  Some love on me and understand.  Some show up.  Some...they say they wish they could....but just can't.  Some walk away.  Some make sure I do what it is I need to do. Some pray and check in and let me know that they are praying.  All have a place.
Funny though...people handle the disease better than they handle the emotional havoc that is part of my life post marriage.  They don't see.  I keep reminding myself.  But I do.  And I am responsible to take care of me.  To love me.  To understand me.  All in connection to the God who loves, gives, and made me.
I am learning much...through the pain.
But I still hope that the pain ends soon.  It's too intense.
blessings.