TBD on Ning
BATTLE SCARS.....
I 've been around a while. Learned to crawl, walk, run. Ride a bike and roller skate.
I've had my share of boo-boos too. Never broke a big bone but fractured my nose once and had a fractured rib....results of good fun gone awkward.
I've had stitches here and there from surgery but none needed from slicing a bagel or chopping veggies...or playing mumblypeg.
So I was thinking...every scar has a story. Can you recall how you got that one on your knee or the back of your arm...What were you doing? Where you afraid to tell Mom?
Tags: air rifle, brother did it, dumb idea
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Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Jaylee53 on
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Arthroscopic....usually joint-type look-see. What were they looking for through your belly? (just wondering..I know enough about the medical field to be dangerous..)
Laparoscopic...through the belly...that's okay...it's hard to see the hips/knees from there...
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Permalink Reply by TeeBubbaDee on
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That's what I get for posting with a beer in hand!!
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Well I have already posted my physical scars, but the emotional scars run deep. This is something I wroke for the Tier II writing group shortly after I joined the original TBD. I don't share this lightly. I will say, the opening about me seeing the child and the closing about me walking away is total fiction. Memebrs of the writing group encouraged me to make a beginning and an end to my "whatever". The rest is factual. I apologize for the font, but this is the only copy of this I have.
Wounds And Scars, Final Version
I try as hard as possible to not pick a the scabs of my childhood, but sometimes, those scabs got ripped off without me ever touching them.
It happened today as I walked through the neighborhood park. There was this little boy, couldn’t be more than five or six. His daddy was so drunk he could hardly stand. Spit was flying as he screaming and yelled at the kid. . “You little shit!! Didn’t I tell you to never do that again?”
Well the scabs got ripped off and the wounds began to bleed. And there was my own child hood all over. But why should I have wounds and scars in the first place?
Maybe because I never once remember being held or cuddled. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, it’s probably just my bad memory.
I doubt it was because I had moved 5 times by the time I was 5, living in a shack. Three rooms, using two, cause the roof was on the floor of the third. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, didn’t I say we had a roof over two rooms.
It couldn’t be because I was standing between my parents trying to push them apart as they fought. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, they were hitting each other, not me.
Might it be the divorce from the crazy man that fathered me. Well only crazy if you consider getting drunk, taking off a boot and knocking out every light bulb in the place. Or kicking my pregnant Mother in the stomach so that my sister had to have her guts put back in as soon as she was born. No that shouldn’t leave a scar, we were good to be rid of him.
I can’t imagine it was the stress of eight more moves between 5 and 11. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, lots of kids have stress.
Inconceivable it was from the baby sitters sister, who happened to be a total stranger, standing over me with a belt and saying, you will tie those shoes. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, all little kids have to learn to tie their own shoes.
Can it be from the isolation brought on by going to five different grade schools. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, I just have a difficult time making friends.
It’s not likely it was my mom’s second marriage that lasted six months. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar. 6 months isn’t long enough to leave a scar.
Probably not an innocent question when I was 8, and my Mothers response was “If I thought you would grow up to be like your Father, I would just go ahead and kill you now!" No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, we all know he was a bastard.
It could not possibly be the third marriage, when I was 11. Hell, I was finally like everyone else, I had a guy I could call Dad. Of course then I didn’t know how sick he was, touching my sister, and my little brother too. No, that shouldn’t leave a scar, he never touched me, only asked to look at my penis.
Presumably it’s not my uncaring Mother that raised an emotional cripple. No that shouldn’t leave a scar, it’s impossible to scar someone without emotions isn’t it?
It has to be true, you can’t scar someone with no emotions. Hadn’t that been the lesson of my entire life. With this thought in mind, I pulled the collar on my coat up as far as I could, and just walked away. But as I walked away, I felt another scab forming on my heart.
Wounds on top of wounds, scars on top of scars, why so many?
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As a whole...none of this is fiction.
All I want to do now is hold you close...rock you quietly in the arms of some one who never wants to see scars laid upon any one...especially you..a child who deserved so much better.
I hope you have someone in your life tonight who can do that for you.
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Thanks for your kind thoughts Jaylee, I waffled about sharing this again, but figured "what the hell" I could really use that hug right now, but my Sweetie is working the 12 hour night shift, so I will have to wait till morning for that hug.
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So am I !!!!!!!
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