Throw your pain in the river
Leave your pain in the river
To be washed away slowAnd we walked without words
And we walked with our lives
—PJ Harvey/The River
Some of us hold on to everything.
OK. Let’s put that into the first person where it belongs.
I am a person who tends to want to hold on to everything.
Emotions.
Shoes.
Clothes in different sizes.
Empty used envelopes.
Old boyfriends.
Memories.
Books.
We all know how much better, how much cleaner we feel when we get rid of old junk. When we empty the shelves of clutter. Sometimes we find it difficult to start throwing things away, even though we know we will feel better without the clutter around us. Physical clutter, physical goods, are easy to deal with compared to any of the junk we carry around inside of our heads.
If your head is anything like mine, and hopefully it isn’t, you have a lot of dark corners and cobwebs in there. A lot of little piles of emotional baggage that need attention. Some of them carefully covered up so I can’t see them.
And yes, even pain. Why would anyone want to hold on to pain? I know I don’t usually mean to, but still there are some things that I struggle to set free. Even if they hurt. Sometimes a memory is so important to me that I’m afraid that letting go of the hurt will make me lose the entire memory. Sometimes I think if I hold on, I can resolve the issue that is causing the pain. Usually it doesn’t work that way. Sometimes the pain involves a person. It’s really difficult to let go of someone you care about. I’m not sure how successful I’ve ever been at it. Maybe I’ve just been lucky I haven’t needed to very often.
Sometimes I think I’ve let go of pain when I’ve really just hidden it away very carefully. You can stuff a pain down pretty deep and almost but not quite forget about it. That sort of pain tends to leak out around the edges in all kinds of ways, like any other thing you try to ignore. Maybe not acknowledging it gives it a power it doesn’t have otherwise. Makes it more treacherous. Makes you do things you shouldn’t do to compensate. Maybe over eat or self-medicate in other ways. Maybe you become compulsive about exercise. Maybe you find other, more creative ways to abuse yourself. I’m quite clever at it. The pain doesn’t feel as acute when it’s buried, but it’s still there. Just waiting. It’s a slow poison. Time release badness.
I’ve been known to deny that pain even exists. That’s common with mental pain. I managed to do it with physical pain, when I was getting treated for a badly burned arm. Therapists love it when you would rather pass out than admit you hurt. Medical people don’t like it when you go into shock. Neither do mothers. I didn’t really recognize what I was feeling as pain though. I may be smart in a lot of ways, but dealing with pain is really not something I’m good at. I would rather just avoid if I possibly can.
Other times, I know I hurt and choose to ignore it. Usually that involves physical pain. A few years ago, I was training for a half marathon and got plantar fasciitis a few months before the race. I realized what it was and knew I should stop running. I didn’t run for a few weeks, and then cut back a little on my pace. I was so focused on the goal of the race that any possibility of long term damage was not something I was willing to consider. I finally finished up, limping through the 13 miles, and haven’t been able to run again since. It was 6 or 8 months before I could walk quickly or even ride a bike. I was an idiot. Pain is a signal that something is wrong. If you don’t honor that, pain will kick you in the ass until you do.
If you don’t deal with it, pain will always win.
It’s an easy process to deal with physical pain. You see a doctor, a physical therapist. You rest the injured part, or get cortisone shots. You pamper yourself a little until you heal. Sometimes it’s more complicated than that, and sometimes the treatment doesn’t cure the pain entirely, but the process for getting better tends to follow the same route.
Letting go of emotional pain isn’t as obvious. Sometimes you have to have help. From a friend, or a lover. Or even a psychologist or counselor. A lot of times you can deal with it on your own if you’re willing to acknowledge it. It can be as simple as forgiveness, or as simple as admitting to yourself that you hurt and being willing to feel the pain. No one likes to feel pain, but you can’t let it go until you do.
It would be nice if we could all just go swimming.
And leave it all in the river.