Woundology
what is my resistance to healing?

In 1988 Carolyn Myss coined the word, “woundology,” as a name for her theory that some people don’t heal because they’ve made an identity out of woundedness. They like the attention it gets them and don’t want to give it up.
I recently published a story on Medium about the long term effects of early sexual trauma on my own life. The story enjoyed a surprising popularity on facebook, spreading to friends of friends of friends, etc. I was lauded for my bravery in publishing it.
Now I have to face the music of the internal critic, asking why I have not yet healed myself from the traumatic events of the past, if I have a “Bob” who can solve all my problems.
(For anyone new to my writings, Bob is my internal teacher, gateway to learning, facilitator of healing, and general factotum. See note at the end of this post for further information.)
I recently read a lovely blog by Ruby Falk about losing her father, titled the fear of being ok, in which she writes, “Before experiencing loss, I never expected that I’d want a bout of depression to linger.” She describes the sense of betrayal she feels about moving on and becoming happy in her life again: “If I move on and continue living my life, I think to myself, it means I never really loved my dad and I am obviously letting him down now.”
I resonated with her sense of betrayal and her description of an internal “tug-o-war” over the possibility of healing. In my own case, I’m not sure who I’d be betraying if I were to get happy, but the conflict is there. Is it, as Carolyn Myss suggests, that I’ve made myself an identity out of being unhappy?
I have an idea: Let’s ask Bob!
Bob: If the inner child is not happy, no one is happy. You’ve been trying to “get happy” without addressing her needs. This never works. You can’t betray the child and be happy.
me: So I have to find out what would make HER happy?
Bob: Happy, happy, happy. What’s wrong with you people? Happiness is not the goal! Happiness is the result of the goal.
me: Ok then, what’s the goal?
Bob: To become one with the child. Authentic.
me: So if the child is sad, I would be sad with her.
Bob: Correct. But, as the adult, you’d also bring me along. Only I can heal the child. Only I can heal YOU. The first step is to get back to the beginning. You can’t leave parts of yourself out and expect to heal. To heal is to mend the split.
me: So by devoting myself to the child, and listening to you, I will heal in a way that is not, as my little sister used to say, merely “blowing sunshine up the ass.”

Bob: Right. You’ve noticed recently how the child in you responds to your attention. And yet, she may not be ready to be anything but sad. First, there must be comfort. And, as you have only recently discovered, comfort means that sadness and love are in the room together.
me: There is really no better feeling than this. For all the elevated states I have achieved through meditation, for all the dream states I have experienced of bliss, I still prefer the comforting of the perennially sad child. Comfort means the opposite of cheering someone up. It means loving them exactly as they are.
Bob: You got it. Change comes by itself. You are not in charge of healing. That is strictly between me and the child. The timing is not up to you, and neither are the requirements. So shut up and listen.
me: I love you, Bob.
- Bob is the non-spiritual name I’ve given to my inner teacher. I’ve written many stories about him, which you can find by clicking on the My Bob tag below. Here are a few good ones to begin with if you are interested: Bob is a Zero, How to Acquire a Bob
- For a mindfulness approach to healing the hurt child, see the Thich Nhat Hanh article I found the other day when researching the long term effects of childhood trauma. It isn’t as much about digging up the past, as it is being present to that child now. “Healing this inner child’s pain,” he says, “will transform negative emotions.”

