I was visiting with a friend last night, trying to put into words a whole lifetime of “stuff”. And I realized that I feel better….not because I couldn’t explain it, my life, or what I’ve learned…but that I feel like I’m really healing from it all. I talked about my mom, my grandparents, the rape, beating…I didn’t feel like I was living it, but that I’m putting it away…or have put it away. The band aide has been off for some time now, and the puss filled gangrenous nastiness is gone. What’s left is an open clean wound. That may sound bad, but it’s not. A clean wound heals. I’ve heard it said that if you are lost, out in the wilderness, desert, or wherever, and you get cut or have a wound, to let the maggots survive if you get them. Because they eat all the nasty rotten disease out, and leave the clean open fresh flesh. That’s what I feel has happened, metaphorically. The wound is fresh and vulnerable…I have to take care to let it finish healing. I still have terrible panic and fear, but it’s getting better. It may go away, or may never go away, but EITHER way I will have a wound that isn’t filled with disgusting rotten meat. I’ll have a wound that is just that…a wound…all the shit is out. I know that may not make sense, because, well, I don’t make sense half the time. LOL..but for me it does.
Look…a ball!
Here’s a Story 