I have been on a journey these last 10 or so years. It has been a healing journey, one dotted with spirituality, ancient wisdom, amazing people, lots of yoga, thousands of blueberries and brilliant quotes. So many quotes.
One of the quotes that has stuck with me is “Mad is sad’s bodyguard.”
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Yes, it’s deep, simple and mostly true. Also one I know well myself. There was a time I believed that was the root of all evil. Unprocessed emotions, sadness that didn’t get to be felt so it turns into rage.
And rage, when left to it’s own devices, all untethered, unkempt and uncontrolled turns into venom and vitriol, especially within the body. Energy needs a thing to do, or a place to exit. It’s not meant to stay and I find it feels like ping pong balls in there, bouncing around at will.
My own journey was kicked off because of a health crisis which has definitely colored my point of view. My body was rejecting everything I had come to love and rely on. The energy was out of control and showed up like a riled up sea. Red wine tops the list of things that bothered me, cheeseburgers, aggressive exercise, chocolate chip cookies, beer, dare I go on. I was “allergic” to so many things. I had heartburn every single day. Because this was a daily part of my life, I thought everyone had heartburn so I didn’t even mention it to my doctor at check ups. It would take a life lived without heartburn to fully realize just how much pain I was in. The pain I carried with me on a daily basis was my baseline, so common place that I didn’t give it air time.
You want something to cry about? I’ll give you something to cry about.
What Gen Xer doesn’t know that classic line? We are a generation that was not made to be ok with feelings and deep emotions. It was not even welcome let alone supported, at least not in my house.
I had so much heartburn that I developed something called an erosive esophagus. This is defined as: a condition where the lining of the esophagus becomes inflamed and damaged, with visible erosions or ulcers. This has now healed itself thankfully and I don’t get heartburn much if ever anymore. If something like that is left unchecked it has the potential to become esophageal cancer.
My spiritual learning has taught me that things that show up in the body are a reflection of the life we are living. (Again, think ping pong balls.) I don’t know if I fully support this but I also don’t dismiss it either. I have seen time and again where there is correlation between a lot of stuffed anger and a liver that doesn’t support digestion. I have known others with long repressed feelings who developed various cancers in the digestive system; feelings not being digested. I am a certified medical intuitive but also I have a master’s degree in public health. Causation does not equal correlation. I support a “yes and” concept when it comes to these things.
I have also seen people start to live a richer fuller life when they finally make peace with that event, or that death or that trauma finds healing. Is it physical or is it energetic or both? I will forever be seeking the answers to these questions I suspect.
I say this because back then, it wasn’t really about the cheeseburgers or red wine, it was about not speaking my truth; it was about swallowing my unprocessed feelings for the good of the order; it was about swallowing shit, year after year after year. I was not being my authentic self. I was not allowing my feelings to surface and be processed.
I was rage filled and angry on the inside. On the outside, I was pleasant, and went about life like one does.
Inside of me, there was a 26 year old version of myself who had been betrayed, who was afraid and laden with unprocessed grief who was so stressed out she couldn’t eat or sleep for months. I went on anyway, without her being healed.
When I was 26 I kept waiting for myself to fall to my knees, to give up or give in, to sob and wail and fall apart. I used to actually picture it; me in the corner of my kitchen floor. The floor with the weird 1980’s octagon ceramic tiles and the wedgewood blue grout that I could never get clean. I never did. I am my mother’s daughter, stoic, hardworking and brave. I can do hard things as well as or better than a lot of people. I went on anyway.
When I was 27, my father died. Rather than fully understand or feel all of that, both because I had no idea how to and also it seemed terrifying and scary to have those huge emotions, I decided to instead sink my energy into my mother and her well being. She was so alone and so young, widowed at just 51 years old, the age I am now. I cannot imagine her pain. She also didn’t show us very much of her pain so my answer to all these mysteries was just include her in as much of my life as I could. The twins were little and the three of them loved each other profoundly. That was a true blessing. And we all went on anyway, in one version or another.
Now at 51, after years of self exploration, food limiting diets, little to no drinking, research, readings, healers, doctors and therapy, I find myself in a place without any heartburn. My body still reacts quite loudly to things it doesn’t like and so I have adapted to learn how not to aggravate it. That is exhausting by the way and I fully support healing in some other way if possible.
Life now has me facing down the ghost of that 26 year old woman who went on without unpacking her stuff, without acknowledgment for her soul being ripped apart, for her bravery and courage in the face of so much pain. For taking one for the team as it were. The one who would later develop autoimmune diseases and get hives from wine and chest pain from eating pork. She is still in there waiting for a hug. Waiting for her participation medal. Waiting to offer her feelings up to someone who will truly listen to her, to let her feel the rage and release it. She is getting impatient with me, as she should as I have grown adept at ignoring her needs.
Enough quotes she tells me. Enough bypassing and glad handing everything. This is hard and we went on anyway. We will always love blueberries and yoga but really, can we stop already? Can we just make peace and release it all so we can go on fully, like all the way?
This is what is underneath.
This is the heartburn.
“Studies have shown that anxiety and depression can lead to heartburn and other symptoms. There is a brain-gut interaction.” This is from a medical gastroenterology website, not one of my spiritual sites or books.
Louise Hay, the founder of Hay House Publishing and author of the book, “You Can Heal Your Life,” says heartburn is from clutching fear. And not trusting in the process of life.
A therapist I had back when I first got divorced many years ago told me that all emotions stem from a basic four feelings: mad, glad, sad and afraid.
Notice how all but one of them are a negative emotion? How are Gen X’ers supposed to make it when they weren’t allowed to do big feelings, and most of them are hard?
This being human is hard work. It is filled with so much learning and loss and pain but also so much magic and wonder and joy and if you’re lucky, deep profound connection.
After all this time, I am not fully healed, but I am a work in progress. I am so grateful for the people in my life, the teachers, my friends and most importantly my family. And still, I have really hard days, because I am clutching the fear, caught in an old cycle that no longer works.
If you had told me ten years ago I just need to go back through my life and heal all the feelings I never allowed myself to feel, I would have laughed at you. But that, it seems is how this all works. Hindsight is 20/20.
“I am coming,” I say to my 26 year old self. “We can do this, we can figure it all out and give you some peace, respect and love.” Hopefully it isn’t too late. Not having her with me has limited me in so many ways over the years. It has cost me relationships and caused so much pain. The pain of avoiding her needs has likely been worse than the pain of helping her heal.
“The best way out is always through.” Robert Frost.
How blessed I am to have friends who remind me of that sentiment.
And one more quote to end this tale:
"If you don't heal what hurt you, you will bleed on people who didn't cut you.” Unknown
Guest House, by Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
So proud of you for digging deeper. Makes me want to do the same. As always, thank you for your guidance❤️
Love your writing Christy!!💜thank you for this