What makes time the healer of broken things?

Time. What is it? Everyone says that it is supposed to heal us, but what makes time the healer of things broken?

It has been two years. Two years since I got married. Two years of the schedule of a submarine, two years of my roller coaster of depression, anxiety and the like, two years of figuring out how to be a married couple, how to run a home and survive the real world.

Time has passed.

You might remember my blog post about painful sex… If not, I suggest you read that first (click here).  I was full of hope for the first time since I got married.

Then I saw an OBGYN for this. You know what they said, you will be fine, use a dilator you are fine just takes time to get over.

Crushed does not even begin to describe the feeling that I had. It does not touch the sinking feeling in my stomach of devastation. They tested me for STDs and sent me on my way. A test that I knew I did not need and one that cost me a lot of money.

Depression came like a floodgate. It is hard to keep your head above water when you feel like you don’t even feel that you deserve the right to swim. I can’t blame it on that doctor’s appointment because I know it would have happened anyways, but it was the tipping point for months of despair and anguish.

Two years of feeling like a failure. Two years of struggling with sex… When I say struggling I don’t mean an occasional feeling of annoyance or frustration. I mean sobbing and spending nights in the fetal position on my bathroom floor and literally not being able to breathe from the pain in my heart.

Did you ever lose someone important to you and the heart shattering that goes along with that?

That feeling in your heart and the physical pain felt in your chest from your heart being ripped apart, imagine nights and nights of that.

Imagine that fear that your marriage may not last because this has caused such division and self-loathing on both ends. Imagine that you love someone so much that it eats you away inside every night. You go to bed with a simple kiss because the thought of even trying to be intimate with one another brings so much apprehension in both your hearts.

He doesn’t want to hurt me. And he knows how much I hate myself every time that I cannot. He is discouraged and there is nothing I can do about it because I can offer no hope either. I start to hold resentment in my heart for the fact that he cannot feel my pain, resentment that he is causing it. I know in my head that he is not the cause, that he is not doing it on purpose. But the heart is harder to convince when it is only feel deep pain. I am just being honest here because someone out there needs to hear this. Needs to know that it is normal and you will survive. I tried not to be resentful…I usually find peace again in the morning, but those feelings still sit there, waiting to pounce again the next time you try to initiate anything.

I hate it. I hate that I fail. I hate that my body fails. I hate that I cannot be close to my husband in this way.

I honestly cannot tell you the last time that we tried. It is too hard on both of us.

But then that burden still sits there on both your shoulders. You feel the pressure to fight this and not be in a sexless marriage. Because where is the fun in that? Where is the deep soul bonding that comes from that? Sure we can talk until we are blue in the face about all the things that our hearts hold, but it is a connection that you cannot get any other way. But at the same time you feel the defeat in the air before you even try and it kills you a little bit more each day. And it slowly starts to separate you and pull you apart, until you finally break and hope all the pieces land in each other’s laps.

I am at my wit’s end. I have faced the door of defeat so many times that I cannot even bring myself to walk down the same hallway anymore. God has seemed to be silent on the matter. I felt like He was just sitting there watching the struggle without offering to help.

Then a few months ago this happened...

I went in to see my primary care physician who is a wonderful caring woman and a phenomenal doctor. I just needed to switch my birth control because I was no longer happy with how it was effecting me. So I went in and they were telling me about all my options and I made a passing comment to the nurse that sex was painful enough as it was, I did not want anything that would make that worse.

Well she told my doctor.

And that woman is amazing.

She came into the room to finish talking with me about which option I would like for birth control and then immediately said, “You should not be living like this, this effects your quality of life and I am not okay with that. Can I refer you to a physical therapist?”

Can you what?? You mean there are people who do that? There are actual physical therapists that specialize in that on this island?? And you want to send me to one??

YES! A thousand times yes! Please!

She cared. She cared enough to get me help and find me help. When the first physical therapist turned me away because she didn’t deal with that directly, she found me someone else. She fought for me. She went to bat for my marriage. And this isn’t the first time that she has fought for me like this. She fought to get me help for my depression. She is always fighting for me. And I will be forever thankful for that. I don’t think that she will ever fully understand how much I appreciate her.

She was the beginning. The start of someone hearing my pain and helping me in a real way. And I just felt this ray of light shining down into my heart and peace feeling that God had not abandoned me, just simply was waiting.

This is the start of my journey. This is the start of my healing. This is just the beginning and I hope you will walk this journey with me.