I’d been through it, more than one time, and I knew there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it ‘all better’ again. No kissing of the scraped-knee-type-remedy, for sure.
I warn ahead of time, if faced with this occurring to one you love or befriend, continue to offer support, and a shoulder to lean on and hugs, when requested. Those gifts you give are desperately needed in those times.
As to the “hug, when requested”, I know this is difficult, but try to understand, sometimes even a touch of love from another is repelled. The broken mind needs time to reorganize and sort good touching from bad touching.
Be there to always be there when needed.
I watched the lady day by day as her undertook her task to rebuild her life. To cement the brick of a new expression for her outward face, displaying the new sans cosmetic look. Another brick to groom herself outwardly clothed attractive, but in the new protection of loose clothing instead of tight and covered arms. Yet another brick to the replace the sounds of gaiety once so natural for her, one that would disguise her sounds now as happy and unconcerned.
I desperately wanted to tell her she did not have to replace her style with the garb of a nun, but I knew from experience she would not be able to accept my words. I knew she was rebuilding new leaves on a wounded branch. I watched as though I was looking in a mirror and held myself back from embracing her and telling her it would be “all better” again. It was instinct but I knew better.
I knew the most important thing was to give her time, to be there knowing one day she would regain her confidence and reemerge as herself. Give her time.
© Zora Zebic 2016