Fresh Old Wounds

“Through the dawn I’d seen it, too. I caught a glimpse I thought was you. And I was overwhelmed. Lightning blue eyes against the daylight.” ~Secret Machines, Lightning Blue Eyes

How can simple words, a song, a smell…bring up old wounds and make them feel so fresh again? So raw? Months, years maybe, could go by and one scent or song teleports those wounds in the exact spot you’re standing. You feel the needles in your cells. You feel your heart race. Your breath feels heavy, then fast. You try not to cry. You push back the tears. You try to stop your chest from rising and falling so fast.

I was listening to some music while sifting through some old boxes of photos recently when a song came on I nearly forgot about. It was Lightning Blue Eyes by Secret Machines. This was a band introduced to me by my ex. I started sobbing. What the hell, right? I got a little worried about my own reaction. I had no idea where these emotions were hiding.

I questioned. Why am I so upset? (I started to panic a little.) Why does it feel like I reliving the worst of times? I’m looking at photos of me laughing! How do I make it stop?

Good question. How do you make it stop? Does it ever stop? Every day I’ve put one foot in front of the other. I’m happy again. I feel like myself again. I did a mental run down….I grieved. Check. I got angry. I tried to keep it in under control, but I was certainly angry. Check. I’ve accepted things for what they are. That was one of the final steps towards healing, I’m pretty sure. Check. So…what is happening? Honestly, I’m still not sure.

I recalled previous times when I think back to the old volleyball days or high school and get sentimental about them. I’ve laughed and cried over that, so perhaps this was a similar deal. Right or wrong, here is what I did:

I talked myself down. I’m human. I’m not regressing. Perhaps it’s just a gentle reminder to not make the same mistake. Not to let the wrong person in again. Maybe the wound resurgence is one of life’s tests. A pop quiz. Maybe life thought…she’s been working hard and got her life together…let’s see if she remembers how to react to shit she learned last semester.

I remembered who I am and how I could probably lift a car now from all of the strength I’ve built up over the last year. I remembered what I want out of life. These pictures weren’t that life. I remembered how far I’ve come and where I’m going. Then thanked my lucky scars for helping me get there.

Author: Penny Lame

I can find humor in almost everything. These are my stories.

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