Conventional wisdom tells us that scars fade over time. But they don’t always fade on their own. Whether physical or emotional, diminishing scars is a process that takes work.
A few months ago I had surgery to have a two benign Lipoma tumors removed from my left arm. In the weeks and months since the surgery, the pain subsided but the scars did not. The scars grew hard, red, and puffy. Ugly reminders of the surgery. Every time I’d look at them, I was right back in the memory of all the pain and anxiety I’d experienced. Embarrassed at my skin’s imperfection, I wanted to hide them. To cover them up. But I realized that wouldn’t make them go away. Fading them would take time and effort. I started rubbing scar-reducing cream into them several times a day. The nerves under the scars are very sensitive, so rubbing them can be rather painful. But the combination of the massage and cream has started to soften and lighten the scars. To my surprise they are fading.
In thinking about my scars, it occurs to me that emotional scars are much the same way. When we face a trauma in my life, I am often left with emotional scars. If left to their own devices they can get irritated and raw. They can make me feel imperfect and embarrassed. I might try to cover them up and hide them only to find that they are just as present as ever. It’s only when I start to massage my emotional scars that they start to go away.
It’s painful to address my emotional scars in the moment. Touching that nerve sends reverberating pain up and down my psyche making me wince and want to withdraw. But I have to retrain my nerves. Exposure lessens the pain. Lightens the scars.
A raw wound in my life I’m realizing is the post traumatic stress I’ve been dealing with from spending time in the Intensive Care Unit twice in the last couple years. I’ve wanted to hide it. To put on a brave face and pretend that the scars from that memory didn’t exist. But that has only given the resulting nightmares more power. I’ve noticed that as I’ve started to talk about my experiences it’s gotten better. Though at first it was a raw nerve to talk about the memory of being unable to breathe on my own, massaging that wound has stimulated healing. I even recently collaged the nightmares that have haunted me from my time in the ICU.
My scars will always be there. Both emotional and physical. But overtime and with the proper care, they will fade. Until then, they are my battle scars. Not reminders of weakness but evidence of my strength. Of how much I’ve endured. Of being a survivor. And that will never fade.