That's gonna leave a mark

This morning, after getting up I stumbled over the dog door leading into the kitchen and hit my arm on the frame. My first thought was "that's gonna leave a mark", which it did. A nice little lump popped up to remind me that I am still a klutz. My second thought, though, was "what else is new"? Since my surgery it seems that I am covered with marks. The scar on my arm, the scar on my leg, the scars on my neck and so on. All reminders that I've been through a lot in the last six months. I sometimes find myself being envious of other cancer survivors that I have met. No visible scars. But then I have to question would that have been any better? My bout lasted only six months to reach the "no evidence of disease level" that so many patients would love to be at. It seems that a few scars is really a small price to pay.

This lead me to really thinking about life in general. The scars and marks that we all carry. Some physical and some emotional. One of the things that unites all people is that we all have them. Of course some try to hide or ignore them. Some try to cover them up, but in the end when we really let our hair down and start to reach out to another person, the marks and scars show up. This is a great thing. Yes, the pain involved can suck, but the outcome of honestly reaching out and talking about it can be liberating like nothing else. Digging around in our house of pain can sometimes be the only way to actually feel at home in our bodies. That is if we look at it and can let it go.

Then there is the pain that we caused. The scars we left behind on others. Sometimes we are forgiven and sometimes not. Just thinking about this I can be filled with shame and pain. I have said some pretty mean things in my life that I'm not proud of. I have lost friends. There are a lot of people out there who actually hate me because I could be so mean. Odd, I used to just think that I was being funny. No so as it turns out. One of the most painful memories for me dates back to the death of my mother. My oldest sister Carla came to stay with me for a few days. One thing that can be said for her is that she is one of the most loving and accepting people I've ever met. For that reason alone, I used to find it nearly impossible to be around her. I was used to living life on a fast and superficial level. I blurted out that she should have extreme levels of plastic surgery or she would never be loved by anyone. It was a cruel thing to say. It took me years to understand what was really behind those words. It was never intended for her. It was meant for me. I was so insecure with my looks and myself. I believed that I would never be loved. The funny thing there is there was so much evidence to the contrary. I was surrounded by people who loved me for me, I was just incapable of seeing it. I was of course blinded to the truth because my own lack of self love.

Yes, today things are different. I was eventually able to apologize to my sister for being such an ass and of course she forgave me. (love is her nature. I seriously doubt if she has ever held a grudge in her entire life). It would be years after the apology that I actually forgave myself. Forgiving myself didn't come until I figured out that I didn't love myself. I was able then to open the door just a crack and start seeing me for who I really was. Truth be told, it wasn't so bad. The door didn't open the rest of the way, though, until my diagnosis. I finally realized that it was either love or die and I was not ready. Yes, I am aware that I will eventually go the grave. Just not today or anytime soon for that matter. I'm busy these days working on leaving my mark. This time it is a different kind of mark. It is the kind of mark that I am proud of!