eastern sun
hungry little creature
- Joined
- Nov 19, 2005
- Posts
- 2,703
Physically? Emotionally? Mentally?
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I don't think I have scars. I have scabs that can be picked off with varying amounts of effort, depending on the scab. I realize that's a disgusting analogy, but it's accurate, I believe.
I don't like my scars. Wish I didn't have them, then I'd be pretty.
I also don't get people that show off theirs. I've though about getting tattoos to cover them up, then at least I get to chose the mark. But then that would probably just look stupid.
Has anyone here ever tried to go to Al Anon as a slave? It's quite an experience.
It's not important but it is...important.
Hm.
My scars are my story. I don't seek them out and I don't ooo and ahhh over bruises and welts and such, no matter how they come to me. But I like them because they're organic. As someone who shuns tattoos, piercings and such, (on my own body), my scars are the only visual reminder, on my skin, of the life I've lived and who I am (for better or for worse).
Well, my scars and my wrinkles.(Which I also love).
When I pull up my sleeve and see that familiar pattern on my wrist I am instantly taken back to that dirtbiking wipe out. I feel it all again, the pain as I yard-sale'd down the hillside, the pride as, bleeding and battered, I remounted my bike and tried again - successfully. It tells me that I can overcome fear.
And each scar has a different story. I love stories.
L has a long jagged scar down one knee, where he sliced his kneecap off during a gag. I love to run my fingers over it and listen to its story.
As for internal scars. They are important because they keep me from making mistakes. They're the warning signs that prevent me from sabotaging my own happiness.
Has anyone here ever tried to go to Al Anon as a slave? It's quite an experience.
I'm too tired for riddles.
I've been to Al Anon but since I'm not and never will be a slave my answer is no.
I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be obtuse. I just haven't figured out how to talk about what prompted my question.
It came to mind when I was thinking about my son. My first inclination in dealing with him is to be concerned about any occurrence that might leave a scar.
On the other hand, I am exceedingly attached to my own scars, for reasons that aren't exactly clear to me. Sometimes I think it's because they separate me from everyone else. Sometimes because they make me feel tough and strong. Sometimes simply because they're so woven into the narrative of my life, I wouldn't be "me" without them.
But they also can be marks of shame, blatant reminders of stupid mistakes and lonely isolation, when I didn't get help when I needed it. And often I look at the smooth unblemished flesh of an infant and am so stunned by its sweet beauty I want more than anything to protect it from anything that could scar it.
And then, I walk into Al-Anon, of all places, with my slavery hidden in my back pocket (I still have no intention of discussing it there) and enter discussions of co-dependency that leave me staggering.
I start thinking that my love of my own scars, of being scarred, of seeking out people who want to scar me, is something I should question.