I have never broken a bone in my body or had any sort of major surgery, hospital visit (except to have the Kidlet) or massive injury that was traumatic enough to warrant much attention. I count myself fortunate to not be accident-prone, but it’s probably mostly because as a child, I never really played any sports or was too active. I loved to sit and read for hours and there are not many injuries you can sustain from laying on a bed and immersing oneself into the adventures of fictional characters on a page.
But I do bruise easily. Very easily. I was play wrestling with my friend earlier this year and he bit me. The massive bruise was there for over a month. My legs are covered in random bruises from Muay Thai and Boxing. And more bruises are accumulating from pole lessons and the occasional run-in with an errant piece of furniture that decides to attack me randomly. Bruises, I can handle. Bruises, they hurt and they are ugly, but they go away fairly quickly and for the most part, you don’t really remember how or where you got them. Life leaves bruises all the time — a careless word that hits the mark, stings but forgotten after a short while; a plan that didn’t work the way you wanted; an expectation unmet. But it’s there, the pain is small and it might linger but then it’s gone.
Cuts aren’t so quick to disappear and usually hurt quite a bit more than a bruise. Sometimes they leave a mark. I have a huge scar down my ankle from an incident while shaving and one on my eyebrow. Other than that I don’t have many scars that can be noticeably detected. Scars remind me that I’ve been hurt and come with it a lesson when life used pain to grow me. They are unpleasant for a while, can cause tears for a while, but eventually, it heals and you are left with a little reminder of the pain that was suffered.
Even though none of my bones have been broken, I still know the pain and scars of brokenness. Brokenness is not something one bounces back from quickly or easily and the scar it leaves changes you to something unrecognizable – sometimes good, sometimes bad. You never fully recover from brokenness, you just pick up all the pieces, tape yourself together again and live life with a pieced-together version. If you break a bone, the doctor puts it all back, it heals, but it never really is the same again. It’ll hurt when the weather gets cold, your mobility in that joint could limit you from doing things…once something is broken, you do your best to adapt and move on.
When I was broken, it took me a long time to pick up the pieces and put it all back together again. The new product is a ragged, sewed up version of the old me (and I can’t really sew which made it difficult), but it’s a stronger, better version. Oh, the damage is there and the damage manifests itself all the time through who I am today, but I lived and I learned the lessons and hopefully, nothing else breaks.
Today, I am feeling the pain of a cut. It’s gonna hurt a while and will probably leave a small scar. A situation that didn’t have quite the outcome I wanted at the moment but was for the best in the long run — something that would’ve left a bigger scar and more tears if it wasn’t treated right away. So, a few tears now, though painful, is better than major damage in the future. Doesn’t make the pain any less raw, but it’s a lesson learned and will heal fairly quickly (I hope). The memory of the pain might linger a while, but I take comfort in knowing that no major surgery will be needed to fix it. For now, I get to see what I need to learn from it and give it time to heal. So, please ignore the puffy eyes and the red nose, I’ll be okay in a little while.
If anyone wants to send me chocolates, shoes or diamonds, feel free. That doesn’t speed up the healing process, but it helps 😉