Wounds . . .

Wounds interest me.  Not the bloody kind that spew puss and all of that.  I'm not speaking of physical wounds.  I speak of mental wounds.  Now these can range from an embarrassment from your childhood or a hurt put upon you by a lover.  Many of these wounds are self inflicted and many are not.  They come in all flavors and no one is immune.

What interests me is how different each person deals with them.  Some are able to brush them off without a thought and move on with their lives.  A mental healing factor abound within these people.  They are able to process and heal the wound so quickly that no scar is left.  Only the deepest of wounds linger.  Then there is the other side of the spectrum where the slightest wound is life threatening.  Too many of these and the person will become a casualty of themselves.

Between these two poles lies the rest of us.  Falling somewhere in between we each lean toward one side or the other handling our own personal mental hurts in our own way.  Some of us cover up the wound and pretend it isn't there trying to ignore the throbbing underneath.  Other leave it open to the air and hoping the healing process will begin.

On the chart I probably land half way in the middle.  This is a pretty good place to be.  Slight wounds are handled quickly while only the worst wounds linger for any period of time.  But one thing I have not mentioned is fact that what is slight wound versus a deep wound varies among all of us.  A simple jest at one's expense is not even a wound to one while it is a gaping bullet hole in the chest to another.

Now while I sit directly in the middle when it comes to healing wounds, I lay closer to being easily wounded.  For the most part I nothing others do bother me all that much.  My greatest enemy is myself.  The smallest of personal embarrassments linger with me for the longest of times because I feel it is a deep wound.  Again the majority of these wounds are self inflicted.  I make a joke that fails, I make a pass that fails or I look back on a situation and realized an inaction was an embarrassment.  This is how my mind works.

But this post isn't about those particular wounds, it is how they heal.  Some of them, with the passage of time, become forgotten or they simply matter no more.  Others linger.  What interests me is which ones linger.  Sometimes right after the fact there is no thought wasted on them.  Then, weeks later, they pop up again and appear and become a wound.  There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to it.  It just happens.

Weird huh?