You have, in your own words, shed all the tears you can for now. You feel dead inside. Betrayed, defeated, cheated, emptied out, terrified, utterly exhausted. You know that it is perfectly normal to feel the sorrow you feel. And you also know you desperately want to avoid a next time, though you have no idea how to do this.
Reeling, your mind continues to grasp at words and insights that might potentially prevent a next time. If only you could help the other see it from your perspective. This too is normal. But deep down, though you may be unaware of it, you know nothing you can say will reduce the likelihood of a repeat injury. You become trapped, paralyzed in your mind, your body, your questions and blame and grief. You become unable to act creatively on any aspect of your life.
But no matter how you try to analyze the injustice, and how successfully you make yourself believe you can stay in its line of fire and not be burned to your core next time, you will, in time, be burned again, if you stay in this place of hoping words alone might do the trick.
Is there then nothing that can be done? I believe there is. I believe that surrender to the full truth of the nature of the injury can give rise to your truest and deepest self, the one in possession of strong intuition, one that knows another kind of response, one that will move swiftly to get out of harm’s way. I believe that although you have been burned to the core, the bones of your innate strength and wisdom and resilience are still there. To use the language of the brilliant Clarissa Pinkola Estés, if you are willing to spend some time in the desert sifting through the sand it is possible to find the bones, as well as the song you need to sing the flesh back onto them. You can again become strong, agile, creative.
You asked me, “what would you do?” This is my answer: Find someone who can help you plumb the depths and collect the bones and create a new song with which to sing your deepest self back to life.