Today’s writing is a post-script to the most recent Connections, “Healing Old Wounds.“

In that earlier work, we recounted the healing effect of re-writing the script I store in memory involving a difficult time following my mother’s death. Inserting my honey (husband) in the story line made all the difference in the world in healing these old wounds.

Once we experienced the healing effect of our new story, we began to see a remarkable shift not only in me, but in our relationship.  If you had asked me prior to the pivotal conversation if I trusted my husband, I would have assured you absolutely.  Yet the vulnerability, transparency, and loving response that occurred took us to a new depth of trust in our relationship.   

We first shared the story and its impact publicly at “Woven Together,” a marriage seminar hosted by gifted counselor and friend, Alan Malchuk of SureCord Christian Counseling. Alan has since told us how this account has proven fruitful for other couples with whom he conducts marital counseling.  That provides the impetus to share further with you today.

If you are familiar with the earlier story, I had made a reasonable request of my father that we retrieve clean and pressed clothing from my aunt’s house as I had nothing to wear to school the next day.  This reasonable request was met with a totally unreasonable verbal assault from my father who was not himself in his bereavement. His words left deep scars.

(If you would like to read the entire post “Healing Old Wounds”, you can get to it here.)

We know that in these traumatic moments, children make decisions about what the world is like and how they can best survive in it. I have no conscious memory of what decision I made or how to best survive, but I have a good hunch. I suspect that I decided that making requests is not safe.  Therefore, the best way to survive is to never ask anyone for anything again. That decision then went underground, out of my awareness, as an underpinning principle on which life would be lived.

Can you imagine how hard it would be to live with a spouse who never asked for help?  And who refused help most every time it was offered? My husband and I have seventeen years of history in which this unconscious habit prevailed in our relationship.  Many exchanges between us made no sense to us before the healing in which he became my trusted protector, defender and ally.   

Here’s one that made no sense and caused repeated high levels of stress for us:

It’s 6:00 and we expect dinner guests at 6:30. The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it because I have dirtied every dish and pan in the house preparing the meal.  My husband offers to wash the dishes wanting to help and wanting the kitchen to be presentable when our guests arrive.  I assure him that I have it covered, and he should just rest until they arrive so that his back will last the night. He gives up and I scramble feverishly to complete the cleanup solo, breathless and exhausted myself when guests ring the bell.

It makes no sense until we consider the following:

We know from neuroscience that scenes like that with my father often get “wired” in our brains.  When this happens, anything reminiscent of the original event can “fire up” that same neural pathway and the same trauma reaction gets triggered all over again.  

Asking for help or even accepting the offer of it got wired up as a “red alert” in my system and in turn ours.  Another part of that scene which got wired with “red alert” is the sound of a voice with any edge of anger or irritation in it.  When my father’s voice was raised that day, all hell broke loose.  For most of these seventeen years, a note of irritation in my husband’s voice has prompted the “high alert” alarm. Here he is a perfectly trustworthy, wonderful guy, yet we have a silent alarm wreaking havoc in our home undetected by us until now.

The good news is that these wires can be re-wired. This occurred with the help, understanding and compassion of my husband as we re-visited the trauma and wrote a new story we now keep adding to daily. 

Here’s an example of a new wiring chapter:

My husband suffers from chronic back pain as mentioned earlier.  The pain often causes his voice to be strained.  Historically, this strained voice triggered the red alert/fight or flight syndrome for me. 

In our new frame of mind when I now hear the strain, I have more choice than I once did. I push the pause button recommended throughout this site.  In that suspended space, I notice the tone of his voice and the look on his face.  I remember the little guy who wants to carry my books and hold my hand. (See Healing Old Wounds.) I remember that I am safe.   

Now is not then; this voice is not my father’s raised and scathing voice.  I respond to him with compassion and inquire, “Hon, how are you doing this morning?  Is your back hurting?” He confirms that it is.  And I kiss him on the cheek expressing my concern for his pain. 

Snipping old wires and beginning anew is possible.  We’ve been there.  We know the past can be transformed.

How about you?  Might there be recurring scenes for you at home or at work that are both perplexing and stressful? Ones that make no sense in their presence and proportion? Might some memories from your younger years have surfaced as you read our account?