I Noticed

I noticed something about the cashier at the store the other day. I didn't stare and she didn't see me looking, but I noticed because I understand. I noticed the faint scars on her arm and I know what they are from. I watched her operate the transaction with her left hand. It was very dominant. Her right arm bore the familiar (to me) scars that probably seem insignificant to most people who notice them. But not to me. I understand. I understand A LOT. I'm not usually very talkative or sociable, but I did go out of my way to smile, and be polite and kind. Because I understand. Rock on with you, lady. I'm glad the scars on your flesh are old. Mine are finally getting old, too. And no, this is NOT a 'time heals all wounds' post. I don't write those. Life is much too complex for such bullshit.

Here I am in this strange space again. It's because I have an announcement to share with anyone who still comes here. Superbowl Sunday is a traumatic anniversary for me. Something terrible happened to me many years ago right after the game. And tonight I noticed... the laundry I was washing, the web pages I was reading, the birthday I was sharing with my twin daughters (they turned 17 today and the birthdate is also a traumatic anniversary and this year both happened to share the same date). And I am fine. I am more than fine. Not because I spent the day distracting myself or ignoring what happened or the things I suffered on this date, but because I paid attention to them quite a bit in the last several years (I didn't have much choice because those events hijacked my life and I refused to listen to the 'just get over it' folks who invalidated me). For those who might still be in the shit -- I am out and on the other side now. The other side really does exist!! I am still just beginning to learn how to walk over here, but this is a real place. Don't give up. Never give up. This place is real and I will be waiting for you here. Keep walking. It's going to be okay.