Covering up the invisible scar.

tumblr_m8c6dns5ni1rwekvgo1_500Here I am again.

I know that I am not blogging as much but , somehow, someway, I am trying to find a life for myself or rather a life outside amongst the living . Most of you that read my blog regularly will “get “ what I am saying . It is such an effort to leave my little cave of self pity , Bipolar, ADHD, Addiction , sometimes filled with sadness and regret that was made by my own choices .

Some of us are comfortable in our own skin. In my opinion these are people that learned boundaries at an early age. I am not sure where I went wrong with that . I am not interested today at the blaming game . Around this time that I thought that looking like Madonna in the pointy bra’s and come f**k me pumps, was enough reason to leave my boundaries at the door. I felt that I was old enough to make the choice to step over to the other side. Most of you know what I mean.

But that was then . I am not my mistakes . I am not the spooky figure that use to haunt me on a daily basis. Allowing ME to give myself the right to dig that hole a little bit deeper . I have accepted my faults, my selfishness, and downright unacceptable behavior . ( I really wanted to say” thug” behavior ). I have said it so often , that it reminds me of listening to a tape that has been rewinded . ( for those of you a bit confused , allow me to help you a bit. It was before Facebook , CD’s and most likely a time that Steve Jobs – bless him , was hitting the MJ and inventing what most of us believe, we can not live without. If you are thinking iPhone , nope ! Dig a bit deeper . )

Since I try to be honest in my blog, concerning my feelings and thoughts. Let me be honest enough to say “ I forgot where I was going with this “ . Not good for a person pointing the finger at life without social media , CD’s and the miracle worker himself Steve Jobs more like a demented old gal reliving the old days .

Ok I am back on track. I found that living a life so isolated was full of fear and allowed whatever depression I was going through to escalated into something much more fearful. No one knew if I drank a bottle of vodka a day or if I was snorting myself into what I can recall truly hell. By involving myself into the real world. I have to be accountable( OK, that may be overdoing it , but I am on the right track ), Still, the nagging feeling of having to attend certain functions, or just picking up the phone , not ignoring my Facebook messages , or actually having to answer back on “Whatsapp” was my big step.

I felt a sense of belonging , wasn’t this what I was moaning about in the first place? I have finally come to understand when you let others in, some doors that you open will be filled with smiles and blessings . At the time you may not know it , but when the moment comes that you do get it, it will be a “ah ha moment” .

On the flip side , not all doors are meant to be opened . If you have high expectations , you will feel the burn. Truthfully I won’t sit here and say the burn won’t hurt or leave a scar.
I have many personal scars. My scars are shameful, full of regret, and more often than not these days just a reminder .

My scars are teaching me to move on. Unloading some of the most difficult times of my life. For example: Today I found a scar that I had either forgotten or had just been so numb that I forgot that it was there . ( It could be that I didn’t see it because it was on the back of my a**).

I looked into the mirror , almost shocked and thinking “what is this?”. Within seconds I knew. It all came back. It is ugly, but it reminded me of who I used to be. I am a shell of that person now. Still, I cried with great sorrow. Because I was face to face with reality . The reality of the person that I keep trying to forgive, to dismiss, the person that I was so comfortable with . I thought how in the hell could you forget this scar. It was not a casual scar. There was anger and fear behind this certain scar. This scar was a lifetime ago. Yet, this scar left me fighting for my life . Fighting to breath .

Today , I had a overwhelming feeling to remember the scar and move on.
That was it.
No drama .
No self pity.
I looked, I saw , I asked for forgiveness, and I moved on. Somehow I felt as if I was moving on from all my scars.

A year ago this would have been enough to give myself permission to become self destructive with a reason , so I would have thought .

Today, I have chosen to , live in the now as much as I can.

The phone rings :

On the other line:

“ hey , what do you think about a walk in the park, it’s lovely weather, Lets have a date. Let’s go to dinner” ?

Me:
Uh , yes a walk in the park would be great.

On the other line:

What about the date thing ? what about dinner ? Aren’t you tired of this? Let’s just go and see where the day takes us!

Me:
Uh, thinking ,” think fast “ . Ok it’s lovely weather let’s hook up.

Yes, I know I took the easy way with this . Leaving it open. But I suddenly found some cover up and the scar was gone. For now.

My whole point is , it is still hard to find myself out and being social. Sometimes, I feel as if I don’t belong. “what will happen when these people really know about me? ” Am I being false ?

In the end , It cover these feelings up the same way I covered the scar. I am not there yet , I have a 6 year old scar that has cut the deepest. I haven’t found the correct cover-up yet. But If I dig really hard , I know it is there.

Just like the scars before , it will be forgotten.

Have a great day everyone .

 

 

my website :

www.brokenopenscars.com

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4 responses to “Covering up the invisible scar.

  1. You describe being crippled by your mind very well. I am not quite where you are – I rarely leave the house. I understand the need for a sense of belonging and the need to be comfortable in your own skin. You are not alone in asking yourself what people would think if they knew the real you. I ask myself this every day.

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  2. On May 28, 2013 5:38 PM, “Miss Crabby Ass” wrote: > > Miss Crabby Ass posted: “Here I am again. I know that I am not blogging as much but , somehow, someway, I am trying to find a life for myself or rather a life outside amongst the living . Most of you that read my blog regularly will get what I am saying . It is such an effo” >

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  3. I think writing (and thinking) about yourself can be a very cathartic experience, up to a point. Then you risk getting lost in the complicatedness of it all. So you need both – looking hard at how things are, and then stepping away and taking a walk in the park.

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