The Cost of Healing Delayed

As I tell my story, I have people tell me theirs. Often they add, “I know there is abuse in my past, but I’m not going there.”

I think the commonly-held-belief is, that if the secret stays hidden, it will cost nothing to hide. This is downright wrong. The cost is vast and more expensive than we realize.

I pondered why we wouldn’t want to know ourselves? Why the burden of exposure is so great the we deny parts and pieces of our very existence?

I get that when we’re just starting to move away from the abuse, it’s difficult — if not impossible, to unearth these secrets. It takes years to discover them sometimes. However, when our mind brings back a memory it’s in our best interest to dissect it. Hunt it until it’s found and drag it into the light of day.

I often hear, “I only have this distant thought of…” followed by the question, “Do you think I was abused?”

If you think you were abused, I can pretty well say — you most likely were. The reason you’re thinking you were is because there is a fragment of memory that you have. Even without tangible memory, the body remembers and will give you subtle and sometimes not so subtle reminders of what happened to you. Explore it.

The cost of not going on an expedition is huge. Tremendous was the burden I’ve carried for not putting the pieces together fast enough. I wanted to live but what I was really doing was running away. That’s not living — that is purely existing.

It’s my right to choose how fast I heal, that’s the truth. The problem is with delaying it, I burdened my life and my children’s life with more abuse at the hands of others because I hadn’t fixed my foundation yet.

I couldn’t find my worth — anywhere, no matter how hard I tried. I think that’s because my worth had a great deal to do with my story: That my story mattered. That my story needed to be heard.

God can only reach through and bring His healing when we open the door. If that door is cemented shut as a result of our choice, no light can find it. And light is our greatest weapon against darkness.

Bring God’s flashlight to the table. Request earnestly that He helps you open the door to your past. It is there, and only there, that you’ll find the rest of the story. It’s where your worth lives.

Originally published at http://prisonerbynocrimeofmyown.com on June 11, 2021.