Old Wounds
Read something the other day that got me thinking about old wounds. How we remember them, how we relive them, how they resurface from time to time.
The self damaging thought that "I should be past this".
Do we ever really heal from old wounds? The ones that left indelible marks on who we are?
We all have scars, some deeper than others. They fade with time. But we still catch on those raised edges. Brush a thumb over a spot that holds some remnant of a past pain. Short and sharp. Deep and life altering. A spot that never quite feels the same, like an achy knee that predicts an eminent storm.
Sometimes they call to us. A lover whispering sweet nothings in the early morning hours. The sting of onion fumes burning your eyes. A blow to the stomach that leaves you on the ground, gasping for air.
Why? Why do these moments come back to haunt us? Sometimes over and over again? Is human existence nothing more than a sum of painful moments that we're forced to relive?
My emotions are a rollercoaster these days. Constant hills and valleys. It's like revisiting my teenage years. The aching and desperate need to be heard and seen and most of all, understood. Feeling like I'm in a crowd screaming for attention as loud as I can, but no one seems to notice me because it's barely even a whisper.
I'm now armed with the knowledge that I'm built differently. Brains are funny. 38 years to finally see that I'm not explaining my thoughts, actions, and feelings to others, I'm explaining to and trying to understand myself. How can I expect anyone to be capable of giving me what I need if I barely know myself?
The more I try to understand who I am, the more I'm capable of opening myself to others and the possibilities. The taller and easier the climb, the bigger the reward, the sweeter the anticipation of reaching the top. Sometimes the crash is more devastating...but it's also easier to get back on my feet.
I try to understand. To be curious. To pay attention to the resurfacing of old wounds. To leave nothing unsaid, unexplored. Nothing up to chance.
Why now? Why this moment? What is happening now that is asking me to relive this chapter I thought I had closed? What new lesson is there to learn from this? Why do I need to reprocess this?
Sometimes it hurts just as much. Becomes a new sore that slowly oozes over days, weeks, months. The ankle that won't heal and causes you to stumble over the smallest of obstacles.
Sometimes it's a new truth I didn't want to see. Couldn't handle. Showing myself the part I played that I'm not proud of, but I now need to reckon with.
Sometimes it needs someone else to bear witness. Self preservation masquerading as independence leaving parallel track lines. Cuts that can only be stitched back together by the soft touch of a new love. This is the hardest. The most vulnerable. The space where if you judge incorrectly it feels like you might bleed out alone on the bathroom floor.
We never fully heal from our pasts. We grow and stretch around them. Absorb the experience, repurpose it into something new.
Can we push past the fear and revisit old wounds with new perspective? All we can do is try.