By Chelona Edgerly, Ph.D.
Copyright Untaming Programs 1998. This article may not be reproduced in part or whole without express written permission of Untaming Programs.
Having recently broken my wrist I have begun the long hard journey toward recovery. I never realized how long and painful the road would be. Once the cast came off, six weeks after the fight, I figured I was home free. I knew the muscles in my arm would be atrophied, but I thought with a little work they would strengthen and I would soon be good as new.
When the cast came off I nearly cried. There sat my bare arm, a sight I had waited six weeks to see again. My head told my arm to move-but nothing happened. At first I thought something was wrong, that I was paralyzed. But then slowly, painfully the muscles began to respond. I tried to turn it over. It barely moved. I tried to make a fist. My fingers twitched, pain shot through my hand, but nothing moved. It was then I realized just how long and painful this road this was going to be.
Now several months later my movement is much improved. I can make a fist-better later in the day after the muscles are warm and stretched then early in the morning when my fingers are stiff. Although it still feels frozen and awkward, I can rotate my wrist in most directions.
It is remarkable how we adapt to pain and restricted movement. When the cast first came off I continued to do many things with my left hand. It was just easier and it didn't hurt so much. Slowly, I forced myself to try things with my right hand, awkward and painful though it be, because I realized if I did not work to regain the use of my right hand I would remain crippled for life.
I work on stretching the muscles of the hand and wrist. I try to rotate the wrist a little further each time even though it hurts. I make myself do things with the right arm even though it is painful and difficult. I remember what it was like to have free and easy movement with that hand and I want it back! The pain of physical therapy is worth it only when I remember what it was like to move that arm freely; to live my life with no painful reminders of having ever broken that wrist, to not be on guard to protect it against possible re-injury or pain.
As I struggle to regain my physical mobility I am struck that recovery from emotional traumas take a comparable path. Whether it is a broken bone or a broken heart the road to recovery is similar. When a person first experiences the trauma of emotional pain her first response is to protect the injured part. Immobilize it, guard it from further injury, hide from the world if you must-but protect yourself at all costs.
Just as the time my arm spent in the cast was necessary for the bone to heal, so this time is necessary for the soul to begin its healing process. But just as the muscles in my arm atrophied from lack of movement, so the muscles of our soul atrophy from emotional withdrawal. One learns to limp around in the world, never letting anyone get close. One learns to smile when she is angry or hurt in order to protect her broken soul from further pain. Or she over develops the muscles of anger in order to keep others away. Emotions become unbalanced just as when my right arm atrophied my left arm strengthened. One begins to move more awkwardly through the world; trying to protect the part of her she feels is vulnerable. Freedom of movement is gone, as her soul become stiff from lack of love.
Eventually the cast must come off. It is often frightening for people when the cast is first removed. The same hard, protective devise that restricted their movements kept them safe as the bone healed and the pain subsided. So it is when a person first leaves the shelter of a guarded soul. It is frightening. One may get lonely when one is protecting their heart, but at least it's safe.
Just as I must work on stretching the muscles of my hand and wrist so those with a wounded soul must work to stretch the muscles of their heart. They must move away from the shelter of social withdrawal and begin to reenter the world. At first these stretches will feel painful. A critical comment, a harsh rejection or a broken trust and the pain of the injured soul returns. Each stretch holds the potential for more pain or further recovery.
Strengthening exercises are also necessary. Just as I must strengthen those atrophied muscles of my arm and hand so those with injured hearts must work to strengthen the muscles of their heart and soul. While I can lift weights to strengthen my body's muscles, one must take risks to strengthen the muscles of their emotions. Remaining calm in the face of perceived attacks strengthen the heart muscle and lets the anger muscles relax. Just as one wants your left and right side to match, so one wants the varying emotions to have equal strength.
Taking risks is an important part of the healing process. When I first returned to kickboxing after having broken my wrist, I found myself protecting my right hand and arm. Now this caused some major problems as I am right handed and tend to fight better with my right side. I pounded my right and left wrists together during the breaks to remind myself that my right wrist was healed. But the minute the fighting began I again worked to protect the right side. It was an automatic response--learned from the pain of a broken bone. So those who have experienced broken hearts or souls learn to protect them from further pain. They protect those parts of themselves that have been injured long after the injury has healed. They must retrain themselves to use those parts, reminding themselves that they are indeed healed.
If a loved one has broken your trust, be it a parent or a lover, you must take the risks of reaching out and loving again. At first this is likely to be very frightening. You have learned well from your pain and want to protect yourself at all costs. But to do so means you will remain in the prison created by your injury. To reach out risks the possibility of being hurt again. To not take that risk leaves you with permanent damage and atrophied muscles. You decide.
I have always prided myself on a firm handshake. Since breaking my wrist it has became quite a challenge and risk to hold my hand out to be shaken. Some who know that I have experienced a recent injury to that area shake my hand very gently. While I appreciate their thoughtfulness, I hate the fact they are treating me like an invalid. For those who don't know that I have recently injured my hand, I risk further injury if they shake too hard. I hold my hand out, take a deep breath and squeeze hard, hoping that my grasp will be firm and that the pain will not show on my face. When I can shake hands with no thought of pain I will know that the injury has fully recovered! When you can risk enough to feel and trust and love again with no thought of possible pain - you will know that your broken soul has fully recovered!
Archives of previous articles:
Upgrading How You Relate by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Friend, Stranger or Enemy by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Protecting Soul and Psyche by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
The Answer is Mutual Respect by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Certainty as the Cure for Anger II by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Trust by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Three Faces of Fear by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D. and Chelona Edgerly, Ph.D.
Hate Crimes Against Women by David W. Edgerly, Ph.D.
Do The Hard Things by Connie Pruss
Strong Is Sexy by Chelona Edgerly, Ph.D.