Old Wounds

Sometimes being home from the holidays reopens old wounds. I've heard it said that you can't heal in the same environment that hurt you. Maybe there's some truth to that.

I remember one year I came home for Christmas. We had a big dinner with the family. My mom decided that we'd have Cioppino – a seafood stew with fish, clams, mussels, and shrimp. I would've said something earlier had I known beforehand. Because the only thing in the world I'm allergic to is SHRIMP.

What the hell. Did she not remember? Did she do this on purpose? I think I ended up having a glass of water for dinner that night.

But I really do love the holiday season. It's just being around family can be challenging sometimes. Even irritating. I'm reminded of a quote from the psychologist, Carl Jung:

Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.

When I'm home, there's a lot that irritates me. And so perhaps there's a lot I could learn about myself. I think here, Jung suggests that our reactions to others' behaviors are often reflections of our own unconscious or unresolved issues.

When I think back on my childhood, I don't remember it so fondly. I often felt a persistent melancholy, and didn't know why. I didn't have the capacity to reason and work through tough situations, so I'd end up taking things personally. There were many things my parents did that were upsetting, and when I would express frustration, I'd get shut down immediately. And over time, that kind of stuff impacted how I saw myself. Perhaps subconsciously I began to think I was the problem. That I wasn't loveable.

But nowadays, I'm a little better equipped. When my parents say or do something that irritates me – like a family dinner that I'm allergic to – I try to think about what is so triggering. Most of the time, I can identify an underlying thought or feeling – for example, the feeling that I don't matter. From there, I recall experiences when I felt that way as a kid. The emotional reactions I have in the present stem from a cumulation of these unresolved past experiences. And being home sometimes is like rubbing salt in those old wounds.

In that sense, that irritation provides a window – a glimpse into my past. A reminder of those stubborn childhood wounds. But sometimes that understanding provides little consolation. The frustration is still there. Despite that self-awareness, healing from those wounds also means grieving what I wish I had.

I try to give my family the benefit of the doubt. But my nervous system is still sensitive. If left unchecked, that irritation can turn inward and I end up with a mild-grade depression. In those moments, I'm more easily drawn to temptation as my mind and body seek a way to numb the emotional distress.

So instead I try to learn from that irritation. Why am I feeling so triggered? If I can answer that question, and understand where those feelings come from, then I have something to work with.

Most of the time, this involves voicing what I'm feeling and why I'm feeling it. It sometimes means being assertive with my boundaries and letting people know what's coming up for me. This is much easier said than done. But when it's successful, that's the best way I've found to neutralize that irritation and the melancholy that sometimes follows.

But if I do nothing and just brood; if I let my temper get the best of me; if I don't speak up, it's just like shaking up a bottle of soda. The pressure mounts and eventually, something will have to give.

I think before therapy, I didn't recognize these patterns as clearly. But now, instead of being a victim to circumstance, I try to be mindful of what's coming up. And I'm learning to have more control over my emotional state.

And perhaps this is what Jung means. Those irritating moments are teaching moments. If I lean into them – and if I'm receptive – they can teach me about myself. And in doing so, I gain more control over the direction of my life.

I love being around family during the holidays. But they also test me. I don't know if I'd go as far as to say you can't heal in the environment the caused the hurt. But I would say those environments provide teaching moments. Moments to learn and grow.

(I want to note that my parents are great. They are doing the best they can with the cards they were dealt. I don't want to paint them in a poor light, but I just want to call attention to my experiences – not because I like to talk about myself – but because I want others to know they're not alone.)