The Cost of Numbness

You Must Feel To Heal

You can’t heal what you don’t feel—but you don’t have to feel it alone.

Have you ever thought that numbness is safe? Or not feeling anything has been the only thing that’s got you through this crazy, painful, messy life? I confess…I have, maybe I didn’t say it out loud, but in the quiet places in my heart, this lie has been echoing for years, decades, actually…

As I was facilitating one of our Shelter Groups this week, I heard a participant who sounded an awful lot like me. I challenged both of us to work on numbness, to journal about what it has cost us; an exercise for us to get honest with ourselves and God. Today I’d like to share what the Lord helped me discover.

“I have chosen to carry the belief that numbness is safe. I understand that numbness is a physiological response that manifests in my body as a deep hollowness and an eerie emptiness. When it occurs, it can last for days, months, or even years. As soon as I could identify this as a trauma response, I told myself, “There’s no way to control it– it just happens.” Today, I challenge this false belief.

My numbness has a trigger: the intense fear of rejection and abandonment. Life has been really painful. I’ve had countless moments of abandonment and rejection by people who promised to love and protect me. My body has taken on the role of protector, somehow deep within the fiber of my being: if no one was going to protect me, my body signed up for the job. The body/ brain has wired itself for survival. My body has done its job. But here’s the rub, it’s a poor Savior! There’s no greater protector than Jesus.

Honestly, I have survived the tsunami of trauma and emotional pain from disassociating, but numbness has cost me a great deal in my life. By disassociating, I delayed the suffering necessary for healing. There is no healing without feeling the depth of the pain life dishes out to you. You can’t heal what you don’t feel.

Building a wall and stuffing down pain prevented growth and kept me fearful. Numbing has also caused me to quietly and secretly wonder when the real person will show up– the worst of a person. This lack of trust has led me to wonder if I should even risk forming friendships, causing me to abandon others before they have a chance to give up on me. I have cut people out of my life at the blink of an eye and never looked back. Not even a second glance. I have spent time waiting for people to hurt me, so I can justify walking away, and I can scream and cry as they leave—”See, you’re just like all the rest!” In all actuality, my fear of rejection is a form of self-rejection.

All of these beliefs and behaviors I have chosen to carry have made me lonely. I am talking about a deep, hollow loneliness that creeps up when I least expect it. It hatefully whispers, “Everybody leaves ... .you're all alone in this crappy world, just like you knew you would be, SCREW THEM ALL!”

Not only has numbness cost me loneliness, but it's also cost me the ability to see people like Christ does, with grace and mercy. To view people with the same loving compassion I desire. I don’t want to be written off when I blow it. I want grace and forgiveness. This is hypocrisy.

As I write this, a question arises in my soul….How do I take ownership of something so deeply ingrained in my physical being? It’s a good question for me to ponder. I know that there’s an immediate response that happens on a subconscious level; however, once I bring it to my consciousness, there has to be a path back to wholeness. Help me, Lord.

I have decided to allow myself to feel the immediate, intense sense of rejection and abandonment instead of seizing up. I will run and pray to my heavenly Father, telling Him how hurt, sad, and disappointed I am. And ask for the comfort only He can give.

From this day forward–

I will acknowledge the go-to is to numb and out loud, and I will thank my body for wanting to protect me.

I will say to myself: “It’s ok, sweetie, I know you want to go numb, thank you so much for trying to protect me. But you’re safe in Daddy’s Mighty Arms. He will hold you in your pain. He will calm the storm and give you peace. The Lord will never leave me or forsake me (Heb. 13:5). I am accepted; the King of the Universe lived for me, died for me, and resurrected for me. I AM HIS.”

When I struggle and I’m so numb that I can’t get the words out, I’ll remind myself of this enduring truth: Romans 8:26, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. When we do not know what we ought to pray for, the Spirit Himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

I have lost too many years to this lie. Today I reclaim my freedom from the false belief that numbness is safe, safety is found only in Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior.”
Pray: Dear Lord, please help me to break this deeply ingrained pattern. Please continue to love me, even when I fall short. Remind me how much you see me, and that I am never alone. Thank You for loving me so well. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

If this resonates with you:
I want you to know you’re not alone. The struggle with numbness, rejection, and self-protection is something many survivors carry. That’s why we offer Shelter healing study through Trees of Hope—safe, Christ-centered groups designed specifically for women who have experienced sexual abuse. In these studies, we walk through Scripture together, learn to name our pain, and discover how to invite Jesus into the deepest parts of our story.

If you’re ready to take the next step toward healing, consider joining one of our upcoming Shelter groups. It’s a confidential space to process, connect, and experience the freedom and hope that only Christ can bring.