I thought that given the nature of some posts I’ve read recently, that I should share with y’all my scars. These pictures were taken today, October 7th, the cuts were made on August 19/20. They are still very bright, very noticeable and often very sensitive. For a time, the sub stitches, non-dissolvable, were getting rejected by my body and were pushed up through the semi-healed wounds. I kept having to take cuticle scissors and cut the threads down in the hopes that I would be able to unravel the knots and pull the nylon out. I think I got a few out, but the rest of the sub stitches are still buried under my scars.
For a time, I was quite ashamed and embarrassed, always wore long sleeves and hid my scars from everyone. I still hide them on occasion, like around my roommate, because I depend on him for a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in and don’t want to give him any reason to ask me to leave. He has a 15 year old daughter part time, so I don’t want him to think I’m unstable in any way. I would understand if he thought I could be a danger to his little girl, but I’m only a danger to myself. Also, any job interviews I’ve had, I make sure to wear a long sleeved blouse. Good impressions and such. You pretty much have to sell yourself to get a job, and I certainly don’t want to shake my potential future boss’ hand and have them see the bright red, very obvious scars.
Now I have a job working at walmart, and it’s pretty fun, and I don’t hide my scars at work. I wear short sleeved shirts, constantly wave at other employees that I’ve met, including my Assistant Manager and an AM from a different department. I’ve been there just over 2 weeks, and nobody has said anything about my scars, not even my friend that I made on the first day of orientation. I’m pretty sure she’s noticed them, but she hasn’t felt the need, or hasn’t gotten the courage to ask about them. Or perhaps, since she knows I’m a widow, she already has what happened figured out. Hahaha.
So, those are my scars that you can see….
These next few pictures show the scars that are invisible. Nobody will ever see these scars, but they may catch a glimpse of the pain they cause me.
There is nothing in this world that will lessen my pain. There is nothing in this world that can bring back that which has been taken. For me, there is nothing in this world. There is nothing without him. I am nothing without him. I am an empty shell.