Getting Over It

On an errand this morning, I needed to pass through the intersection where a number of months ago an out-of-town driver sped through a red light and tore off the front of my car. Since that incident, I usually avoid this corner. Today I proceeded with caution and felt sure I was safe, but my body reacted with anxiety—butterflies in my stomach which fluttered about for the next several minutes. "This is ridiculous!" I told myself, but nonetheless, the queasiness told me I was not "over it" yet.

Getting over trauma is something we expect of ourselves, sometimes too much and too quickly. Of course, an accident in which no one was seriously injured, although the vehicles were totaled, can hardly be compared to other things that can and do happen in women's lives. A partner who deserts, the loss of a child, domestic abuse, a destructive fire or flood, grave illness, financial ruin—these are far worse. If an accident that occurred two years ago still wilts me, why would I expect any of us to rebound fully from more severe shock in less time than that? We are not always kind; in fact, our critics say that the church is the only army that shoots its own wounded.

Well, perhaps we wouldn't "shoot" a hurting woman; we would be more apt just to abandon her. Why would we not be gentle and supportive when we encounter such a woman? Why are we so uncomfortable around her? Very often, it is because we don't know what to say. Often, too many words just get in the way. "I am thinking of you," or "I'm praying for you" may be entirely adequate. But another reason can be fear. What if her disaster is "contagious"? What if my husband left me, my child died, my home burned, my uterus had a cancer? When we are around the one who experiences these, we may wonder if we too are vulnerable—and we pull away, just a bit, just in case. Realizing this, we should be able to understand a little better why we may not get the immediate response of hope and help from others when we are the suffering one.

And why are we so hard on ourselves? It is not helpful for us to hear from someone, "It's been however-many years now. Isn't it time . . ." Or "Are you still . . ." Yet often we say such things to ourselves, gathering shame for having feelings. Do not listen! I am not advocating long-term self-pity, but am simply recognizing that time alone is not a healer. No more than I could control the butterflies circling in my stomach can we control the flash of emotion when we encounter certain sights, sounds, or other triggers for something deeply experienced. Feel it, validate it, possibly learn from it, then release it again.

Marjorie

If you are interested in the topic of recovery after trauma, read some of Genny's story on this blog [here] and about Mrs. Job on "Finding the Faith Way" [here].