I am not a good communicator. Not just because I stumble over my words or because I tend to be brutally honest. It’s simply the fact that when it comes to communicating to people who aren’t in my head (AKA all but one person in the world, and she knows who she is). For everyone else, I come across as hammy, insincere (that one hurts even to type), or just plain evil.
My current favorite author/role-model, Thich Nhat Hahn, uses the phrase “loving communication” in almost every speech and book he was written. I didn’t really get the concept until (Thank you Amazon!) I read his book, conveniently titled “Communication.” Now, I’m not a self-help book junkie by any means, but this one was a real eye-opener for me.
By the end of the book, I not only knew why I wasn’t currently communicating well, how/where I learned my poor communication habits, how I was making it soooo much worse, and learned the steps into communicating more “gently” and “lovingly”.
I wouldn’t say that I’m a harsh communicator, at least not in my opinion, but I hold grudges like white sticks to rice. Seriously, people, I have grudges that I’ve held on to for eight years and longer. I am definitely not to be tabbed under the category “forgiving”, because I have one fiery temper, and it takes a lot to put out those flames.
This is where I found out I was going wrong. Raise your hand if you bark right back at a person when they hurt your feelings? Ok, now raise your hand if you’ve ever sent a scathing text or email in the heat of the moment? What about one of those wonderful Facebook maul-fests you see every now and then? Hi, hello, my name is Brittany, and I have a serious issue with twisting the knife after I’ve stuck it.
Now, I’m going to let you in on my family curse. Well, it can also be a blessing. In fact, people in my family have been told their tongues were lead by God Himself. And also by the devil himself. (Ha, Satan! I did you in lowercase!) It’s this ability that has run back in the family on both sides, for as long as I have known people. And it does NOT fade with each generation, it grows in multiples either positively or negatively. My family as been blessed/cursed with the following gift: we know exactly what to say and when to say it.
When someone is grieving, having a bad day, needs a little pep-talking, we know exactly what to say, what motions to take, and what tone to take them in. UNFORTUNATELY, the opposite can also be said. We know how to stick a knife, twist it, pull it out the other side, squeeze a fresh lemon into it, and salt that bad boy until you’re wishing you were dead. In fact, there may be people here reading this that I’ve done exactly that to. All I’m saying is that, verbally, we create and destroy with wonderful force.
I have taken advantage of that fact. A lot. Frequently. Almost every day.
Now, the problem with having this exquisite gift is this: I have no control over the reaction timer. In layman’s terms, if you say something mean, before you even finish your sentence, I’ll be making you weep, your mother weep, your ancestors weep, and select members of your clergymen weep. I go off like a volcano, and with all the grace of a bull in a china shop.
Combine this with the grudge holding capability of the US vs Russia, and you get yours truly. I am a time-bomb with a very loose pin, waiting to go off at any second. And the best part? You probably have no idea what offends me.
My next point follows with my gift, but is a very rare occurrence. In fact, it has only happened four times in my entire life, and now that I know that I do it, I try my best not to let anything even get close to starting it. After all, one massive, angry, grudge holding fiesta every five years of my life should be more than enough. Just let me get older without the number going up, and maybe I’ll make it into the lowest tier of heaven. I might even get to be reincarnated as a worm. Fingers crossed.
I digress…. This second, far more rare form of fiery destruction is even worse than the instantly soul-ripping fiasco previously listed. It happens on the rare occasion that I either:
A. Manage to hold my tongue in time
B. The person isn’t close enough/it would be inconvenient to eat their soul
C. I become so instantaneously furious that I actually lose my ability to form words
The problem is that, instead of taking time to cool down, I put that puppy on the back burner and let it simmer away. Until it runs out of water. And the potatoes dry out. And they burn. And stick to the pan. And become a mess so utterly unimaginable that you have to throw the pan away rather than ever attempt to scrub it off, because your fingers would go bloody and blistered, even after soaking that bad boy for days.
We come to my grudge holding. I let it fester. I let that open wound get all sorts of infected and puss filled. I let that nasty gaping hole get maggots in it, and wait until I catch a flesh eating disease that makes the hole bigger and bigger, and full of slimy crawling things.
Now that I’ve got you picturing it, you can see why I’m a little upset that I have four of them festering away. These wounds, caused by words, can only be healed by words. I’m sure you can understand that concept, because I know (or at least I hope), that as my reader you aren’t an idiot.
Ok guys, let’s get down to business.
All of these festering pustules of squirming maggots have been caused by failed communication on the part of the original speaker, the failed communication of me as the recipient, and then putting it in a Ziplock baggie to stash under the bed where it’s hot and moist.
So, let’s get into some basic first aid here, and hope that everyone stays with me on the world’s longest analogy of “if you can’t say anything nice”.
If you’re looking down at a festering wound, you don’t just stitch it shut with whatever tetanus infected needle you find laying around on the barn floor. I hope you’re all smart enough that the very thought made you gag a little. I know I gagged a lot typing it. But no, you wouldn’t do it, because it’s gross. We’re going to start from the first stage and move forward from there.
Step one: you would put on some damn latex gloves to keep that nasty off of you.
I’ve known about these wounds, and left them rotting. If I have to go and explore the underlying pain and original causation of the wound, I’m definitely not going to go in bare-handed. The first step (and this has probably taken the longest of all of the steps) is to cool down. Stop. Desist. Don’t look at the pain as pain, and don’t let yourself feel it. Put on your cap of logic and look at that problem with actual, rational thought. I have to say to myself, “Self, you’re hurting. A lot. And you’ve been hurting for a long time. Now we need to stop, remove ourselves from the madness, and get to the root of this.”
Separating yourself from your pain is hard. Really, really, really hard.
You’ll do a lot of meditating and a lot of crying and suffering before you get to where you can separate yourself from the wreckage. In fact, if you’re like me, and you’ve waited years and years, just looking at that wreckage will make you cry. It sits on the back burner. It’s there, but not forgotten. You can get through most days without thinking about it. But (if I may use an example), it’s like my dear friend visiting the Titanic Exhibit at a local museum back home. There were pieces of the ship on display. She instantly began to cry. She didn’t know the names of who was hurt in the sinking. She didn’t know what it felt like to go down with the ship, or freeze to death. It wasn’t even her wreckage, but she still wept. You might be like that. One of your wounds might be seeing something terrible happen to someone else, and not getting over it. You may have had such a deep empathy, that someone else’s wreckage became your own. And getting space between you and that mauled bit of metal is crucial.
“I see the wound, I know it hurts, but I need to be logical right now. I need to perform first aid.”
You may have been in a state of extended shock for years. You may not have realized you were wounded. But until that shock gets over, you cannot treat it.
Step Two: you would grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol and jumbo pack of q-tips, and start cleaning that sucker out.
Here we go back to the wound. We have finally acknowledged the fact that it hurts like hell and is a nasty thing to look at. Now it’s time to start treating that moldering hole in your flesh. Rinse out the puss, cut away the dead flesh, pour in some alcohol, and really get it nice and clean.
A wound can’t heal until it is clean. In case that wasn’t obvious, it is a fact. Or rather, if you don’t clean it you’ll either end up with a lot of things healed under the skin that shouldn’t be, or catch an infection that possibly leads to death. I have seen a lot of people partially clean their emotional wounds, and eventually it creeps back up on them, the infection sets in, and they choose to end their lives. It doesn’t have to end that way! You are the caretaker of your wounds, and you can do what is needed to heal them!
“The wound may be deeper, but it is clean now. All that would make it sour is gone away. Now the healing can begin.”
There are a thousand and one ways to clean your wounds. Some write, some dance, some scream; they do whatever is necessary. A constructive way is always a better way, and if you must scream, scream into an empty room. Remember, this wound is nasty business, and no one wants to be splashed with puss and grime. In that same fashion, remember that people don’t need to be screamed at. If you need to talk it out with another person, that’s fine. In fact, it’s perfectly understandable. Many people seek therapists, group meetings, or even pen-pals in order to vent the pain and clean the wound. But since we are communicating with love and compassion, we don’t want our wounds to wound someone else.
Cleaning an emotional wound is painful, I won’t lie to you. Who can put alcohol on a burn or cut without wincing? Not I. Take it in small bits rather than all at once. You have chosen a specific wound, now you must break the trauma of that wound into tiny pieces so that you can deal with it. A surgeon doesn’t just slice into the body, he does it carefully: in layers, making sure to close each vein as he goes deeper. You must do the same while cleaning your wound. Don’t be afraid to take several days or even weeks to clean away the collected grime bit by bit. An emotion has taken a long time to fester this badly, it will take a long time to clean away the gunk.
You must remove the negative aspect from whatever turmoil your mind is facing. If it is an addiction, you must remove all that that addiction entails. If it is the loss of the loved one, you may need to pack away their things, clean away the old memories, and start with a fresh slate. Whatever the case is, until that negativity is removed, the wound will continue to fester. Step away, do yourself some good, and scrape that wound out until all negativity is gone.
I have suffered through this process and I know that it isn’t easy. There was a lot to clean out of a wound that was over ten years old. It was like a gangrene playhouse in there, and I had to go very slow to keep everything from collapsing around me. In fact, as I cleaned the wound, I found several smaller wounds within it that I had to deal with. In the end, a clean wound is a good thing, and you must do it.
Step Three: you put on some ointment, a bandage, and an ice pack.
“Wound, you’ve been through a lot. Now is the time to soothe the pain we’ve felt for so long.”
You’ve gone through a lot of pain by this point. You’ve cried, screamed, perhaps even lost sleep. I know that I have spent many sleepless nights when I am cleaning my wounds, and I will have many more sleepless nights to come.
A wound so deep and swollen needs to be soothed. Neosporin, ibuprofen, a fresh clean bandage, and an ice pack are just what this throbbing, painful wound needs. And just as bandages must be changed, and ointments re-applied, so must you do so with your emotional wounds.
Those ointments and bandages come in all forms. If you are religious, perhaps it is scripture or prayer. If you are a carpenter, perhaps it is finishing a great project. If you are a writer, perhaps it is finally writing the last letter in a tome that has brought you peace. Rarely do these emotional wounds become soothed with a single action. You may have to change habits, find a new hobby, or even seek out a form of therapy. Muscle fibers must reform, flesh must grow again, and that will take time. Use that time to the fullest, in order to overcome, to truly begin your healing process.
Too often, though, have I seen wounds soothed temporarily with alcohol, drugs, violence towards others, and even from stepping completely out of the world. You must remember that while these things may feel as though they are soothing your wounds, it is only temporary, and in fact will create another wound of its own. Just as you do not sew a maggot ridden wound shut, you do not drink until your memories become faint. You are only masking the pain, not soothing it.
Take this time, instead, to become acutely aware of yourself and your surroundings. See the beauty of nature that God has put before us. Listen to music that uplifts and loves. Read books that bring you happiness in its true form. Step away from the temporary and open yourself up to ointments that will soothe you through the entire healing process.
Step Four: closing the wound.
“This wound has finally been cleaned, soothed, and is ready to heal. Now it must be closed up.”
This final step is so different for all of us, and for each wound on our bodies. Deep wounds may require stitches, while others may heal just fine given proper cleanliness and time. I want to talk about these two wounds individually.
A wound that can heal without stitches is a wonderful thing. If you’ve ever had stitches, you know why. Stitches are usually painful to set into the flesh, and once there began to itch. If you are blessed with a wound that requires only the soothing ointments of our previous step, you will heal much faster, and with less pain. However, these wounds require a lot of diligence. Since the flesh isn’t “sealed” as it is with stitches, you must tend it fervently. Change the bandages, apply new ointment, and refresh the wound so that it doesn’t revert.
A wound with stitches requires a deeper healing. Imagine each stitch as an act that one must perform in order to heal. Perhaps the first stitch is an apology, or an honest communication involving the person who caused the initial cut. Perhaps it is coming to terms with what you have done whilst under the influence of an addiction. The stitches hurt, but with each tug, the stitches close tighter, and the wound will finally close. The wound has not healed, it simply is one step closer to doing so. Your stitches will itch, perhaps because of your ego, or even a feeling that you should not have been the one to apologize. But remember, this is a wound you have decided to heal. You want to put this all behind you. Sometimes a great humbling is necessary to close a wound.
Step Five: give the wound time to heal.
You may still feel a bit tender by the time your wound finally manages to heal. Your ego may still be bruised, your confidence may not be the highest, and you may still think back on your actions with a pain in your heart. The old adage that “time heals all wounds” is quite true. You will need that precious time to let your emotions calm and settle.
In fact, some may the healing more traumatic than the event. That is why you must let yourself heal over a span of time. We’ve just saved ourselves from amputation, let’s take a little time to breathe. Emotional wounds can consume the mind, the soul, and in the end can disturb even our physical being. You may still be unable to move the emotional limb the wound has taken place on.
To go with another adage, we have just been bucked off the horse. Of course we are going to get back on the horse – we love to ride – but you’ve just had the breath knocked out of you, and perhaps even broken a bone. Until that broken arm heals, or at the very least you catch your breath and shake the soreness out of your body, you won’t be able to get on that horse without having another calamity.
Stay positive, smile, do good things for others and for yourself. It is your time to heal.
Step Six: the wound heals and leaves a scar behind.
“The tear has healed, and only a scar remains of the damage. There is no longer pain or suffering.”
Emotional scars are very much like the ones left on our physical bodies. They are discolored, uneven, or even vastly distinct from our natural skin. Some scars may fade with time while others remain as a permanent reminder of mistakes made.
Do not let this upset you.
Our scars are often a blessing to us in ways we don’t entirely understand. We remember the pain both of receiving the wound and from taking care of it. Look at your scar not as constant reminder that you have made mistakes. Our scars aren’t there to mark us as terrible people. Instead, use that scar to keep you out of trouble. You know what causes addiction. You know that a shouting match doesn’t resolve a problem. Just like Thomas Edison and his light bulb, you have discovered how not to do things.
You must learn to take some pride in those scars, and all that you have survived. If a wound has scarred, it has healed. You took the steps to heal that wound, and you are now rewarded by the fact that the pain no longer remains. The memory will continue as a reminder not to step into shark infested waters, but it no longer makes you cry to see what mistakes you have made.
A scar is a scar. A mark that sits without aching or catching an infection. You don’t have an open wound waiting for the elements to sneak in and work their magic. You’ve healed. You’ve accomplished a great thing. I know that I will carry my own scars until the day I die. But, with a little luck and a lot of elbow grease, I won’t die with a single wound. I know it’s time to let the pain go and when it finally does, I am proud of the scar, and I don’t miss the agony one bit.
To all of you who are struggling with your wounds, I wish you the best of luck. I know your struggle, and I know how hard it can be. Never give up. It is never too late to heal.
