It has been said, ''Time heals all wounds'. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
Rose Kennedy [US wife of Joseph Patrick Kennedy Sr. (1890 - 1995)]
A few days ago, I heard this on TV, and dug it up online because it hit me deep. There have been moments, that I remember from my childhood, where I used to be happy. Then something changed. An exact time, or an exact moment, I never seem to be able to pin point exactly, and I know that whatever it was, whenever it was – my mind on its own had begun repressing things. When one is in deep pain, you either allow it to break you, or you deal with it.
Dealing with it, for me, was crying by myself, sometimes into slumber, and awakening to a scared, yet blank mind. There were moments in some days when I sensed the hair at the back of my neck or my forearms stand on ends, warning me of a painful moment about to strike, but then it happened and I would remain incapable of stopping it from happening, yet again – and again – and so on.
A part of me was dead. That part of me is still unable to wake up and remember in detail because I don’t know if, even today, my being would be adept to coping with it in all it’s entirety or not. Hence there is an agonizing deep rooted pulse that continues to throb and sear a sensitive core within.
There are pains inflicted in many a ways, that the mind feels at a loss to comprehend all at once. What is this mechanism that auto-kicks inside and enables me to move on? This is where the lines hit the mark and helped me fathom that may be that is what my brain has done all along, and even today perhaps, this is what helps me cope on?
I never want to see the look of need and want, in the eyes of a woman from her husband. I never want to see the look of fear, in the eyes of a child from her house. I never want to see the look of hunger, in the flailing arms of a daughter who wants to be held by her father. I never want to see the look of rejection and shame, in the eyes of a son cast away as hopeless. I never want to see that desperate look of finding recognition and understanding, in the eyes of children from their family. I never want to see a child reaching her arms out, in futile hopes to clasp a glimmer of that soft place to fall on - that they call home.
I already love those children that I don’t yet have, because I ached for so much from my own people and I know what the lack of it felt like. I want to make up for my losses by compensating and not letting those who are in my life, go without all that peace and affection which I feel I lost on, as I grew up.
I want to start with the bitter ones who are still around me trying to drown me in their negative energy, but I don’t have the courage to tackle them still. I pray to my Lord to give me that inner peace and bless me with strength to forgive those who have failed me, as they still live around me. I thank him for giving me a family (even though it’s been dysfunctional in more ways than sane), while many don’t have even a choice of that over none. I pray to my Lord to give me someone, with whom I could build my dream of a happier healthier abode, into a reality before I’m gone.