Healing our hearts

Healing our wounded hearts is a lot of fun, isn’t it?

What’s often the most difficult at first is trying to find a way of seeing hope.

Because when we’re broken, we’re broken. 

It kind of depends on how our hearts have been wounded.  The specific kinds of trauma we endure.  Because those traumas, those wounds, they often don’t just go away if we ignore them.  We actually have to put in work to heal them.

And that sucks bad, too.  Because that also hurts.

Because here’s what happens.  Our wounds, when they haven’t been worked on to be healed, get triggered.  And they often only get triggered when we finally have the courage to put our hearts back out there and risk them getting hurt by someone else in the small hope that we can actually trust this next person to guard our hearts.

If we don’t try to have a new relationship with someone else, we often aren’t aware of what wounds are buried in our hearts.  Because, well, in a sense, ignorance is bliss – if we don’t poke the bear of our heart in particular ways, for the most part, the bear remains sleeping.

But only in some ways.  A heart not healed is a heart not fully alive.  And sure, you can live life that way and sometimes – especially for a season when wounds are really raw and fresh – that’s the best we can do, just get by.  And that’s OK.  For a season.

If we refuse to ever work on ourselves, we not only stand in the way of us living life fully, but we also aren’t the most alive versions of ourselves for the people that we love.  It’s difficult to hear this, but when we don’t heal, in a real way we’re unintentionally (maybe in small but nonetheless real ways) taking some of our hurts out on those we love the most.

So look.  This is so incredibly hard.  Many of us have been deeply, deeply wounded, our trust just destroyed, our hearts pierced clean through.

We’ve been lied to, betrayed, cheated on, physically and emotionally abused, taken for granted, ignored.  Sometimes for years and years.

This is hard, hard stuff to heal from.  And it can take a very long time.  And in some sense, we will always carry some small parts of the wounds, like scars – but that’s where we need to get to, where the wound is scarred over and not still festering.

Because the truth is neither I nor any other single person can heal you – no human being can, really.  Deep, deep healing comes from God, but also you have to choose to work for it, and you do need help from not only God but friends and counselors.  Counselors can help us healthily process what we’ve been through in ways that every single one of us needs, because none of us are experts in how to heal our hearts.

If we do try to start new romantic relationships with others but still have deep and unaddressed wounds, those new relationships are going to trigger us.  They’re going to poke places in our hearts that were hurt by someone else, and we’re going to react. 

That doesn’t – necessarily – mean we shouldn’t try to begin relationships until we’re “fully” healed (what does “fully” mean, anyway?), but that we need to try to be prepared to handle the consequences both for ourselves and our partners when triggered.

And look – I have my wounds, too.  All of us do.  My primary ones are depression and panic attacks, which as regular readers and friends know I’ve managed since early childhood. 

Even those of us who are, mostly, healed have triggers and wounds.  We’re human, and we’re never going to be perfect.  And just because you’re triggered by a relationship doesn’t mean the relationship isn’t right for you – it just means you start to realize, “Welp, there’s something else I need to address.” 

A relationship between two human beings will last when those two human beings both accept that they are imperfect, have hurts, are inevitably not going to be perfect for their partner, but they commit to sticking together and making the thing work.  Really, that’s it, though it’s much harder in practice than it is to say.  You just have to commit, no matter how hard it is.

But also for a relationship to work, you have to be at a place where you’re ready to work on your wounds, and that can sometimes take a really long time to get to.  It’s not fair to expect someone who just discovered new levels of trauma to be immediately ready to begin trying to heal. 

My greatest fear is that my demons of depression and panic will destine me to be alone because there isn’t anyone who will be willing to love me through the dark moments.

And underneath that fear lies the dragon that is my depression and panic itself.  Look, there is no “cure” for either of these things.  They’re a mixture of my brain chemistry being out of whack and psychological traumas resulting from my life experiences because of that chemistry.

But they can get better.  They have, in fact, gotten better.  In my teens, twenties, and early thirties, an attack would’ve left me depressed and in bed for weeks.  Thank you, Jesus, now I’m generally able to return to the land of the living in about a day.

So I encourage you to just keep trying.  And yeah, in real ways, the decision to put your heart back out there and try yet again with a success rate of zero does get harder every time.

And yeah, when I’m freshly hurt, my hope disappears for a while.  I see only darkness and despair.  And it does feel like it gets harder each time to believe that I’ll eventually come out of that dark place.

But my friends help me.  Good friends don’t try to fix you when you’re like this.  They’re just there with you.  They listen.  They speak truth against the lies of despair.

Part of my challenge is, when I’m really in a dark place, part of me wants to dig in even deeper.  Part of me wants to be overwhelmed by self-pity and hopelessness because I’m so sick of my hope being shattered.  I don’t want hope anymore, because it feels like such a lie.

But as much as part of me hates it, I know like a sucker I’ll eventually find some reason to hope that things might be different the next time.

Because for some people, they are.  I can’t just let myself accept that there is no hope.

Maybe that’s stupid.  But I do take seriously the over-quoted portion of scripture where Paul writes that, “In the end, these three remain: faith, hope, and love.”  I think these are what make us fully human, fully alive.

We have to hold on to hope, and we have to trust (have faith).  The wisdom is in finding the right and safe things and people to put that hope and trust in.  And love, ultimately, is what drives the engine for the whole human machine.

So don’t give up.  I know – believe me…..I know – that you often want to.  And for a season you might do so, and that’s OK. 

But ultimately, keep trying to get better.  Keep your heart alive.