One of the commenters on my recent Wounded blog asked:

But can you heal while still in the trenches? With really no end in sight?

A great question to which my only answer is another question: Do we have any other choice? I don’t think so. We’re backed into a corner, and so are our kids. Children with special needs/disabilities didn’t choose this and neither did we. Our only real choice is to persevere or to throw in the towel. (I wish there were other answers, but have concluded that there really aren’t.)

And because we remain in the trenches, the healing process is impeded. If all the pain (our pain AND our child’s pain) stopped today, our wounds would heal much faster. But that would be impossible.

So, at least in my estimation, healing comes from changing. While we’re working very hard to change things for our children…and to change our children themselves (something that only happens from within…we can’t make another person change), what we often don’t realize is how much we are changing, or need to be changing, ourselves.

Our expectations change; our priorities change; our focus changes; our goals change; what makes us happy changes. And if we don’t take time to recognize these changes, and to purposefully reflect on them (and decide to change), we may end up changing in ways that we don’t want to change in.

I think the changing and the ability to heal while in the trenches is intertwined. There are few other situations in my life where I’ve had to constantly search for answers, endure, “suck it up” and go on, day in and day out, with no real end in sight.

“That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” There are days that I hate this truth…but it is a truth, none the less. The strength comes from my ability to change. Change can either be growth or it can be negative…bitterness, anger, rejection. Those of us parenting traumatized children can, over a long period of being continuously wounded, really start to understand how these children can slip into rejecting us, raging and the world, dissociating from all around them. We can start to see things from their perspective.

To slip into that despair and hopelessness is a change alright…a change that will kill you, not make you stronger. And that’s where our blasted free will comes in. We have to choose to change toward growth and healing…we have to choose to let the wounds make us stronger.

And it takes time. I don’t think we can just decide that we’re going to be strong, going to heal and then suddenly feel “alright”. That’s not the way our children heal; why should we expect the experience to be different for ourselves. There will be good days and bad days. Days where the wounds will be nearly more painful than we can stand, but also days when we can reflect on our growth. We have to give ourselves permission to experience it all…the wounded feelings, the decision to change, the celebration of survival and growth.

Right now I’m extremely in touch with my intense anger at how abused my family has been by our public school system. I feel the potential of some very deep bitterness. But I also know, that if I’m able to look at my wounds and allow them to heal, that the scars from this experience will spur me on to action and growth in new ways. I will be able to do one of those other universal (ok Biblical) truths…use what was meant for evil for good.
Wounded: Will It Leave a Scar?

Wounded: Haven't Noticed or Afraid to Look

Walking Wounded

Wounded: Special Needs Moms

Photo Credit: Hezekiah's Tunnel

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