“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”
– Rose Kennedy
I used to believe that time heals all wounds as well; that if I waited long enough I would just somehow forget about everything that had caused me some sort of grief and pain. As I got older, I realized that was never the case.
The wounds of my past are deep. They’ve never completely healed but rather, left noticeable scars. It’s the main reason I can’t look at anyone directly in the eyes. I’m still terrified of being vulnerable, as you may have read.
Time, however, does make everything a little easier.
When I was just three years old I lost my younger sister. She had been alive for two days. Although it happened almost seventeen years ago, I haven’t completely gotten over it. My family and I still celebrate her birthday every year; she’ll be eighteen in March. But over time, the pain has become more tolerable. There are times that I actually do forget about the whole thing, but in the long run I sincerely doubt I’ll ever get over the loss.
But that’s alright. As a human, there are a lot of things I could never forget. I like to call these particular wounds “battle scars”. Some are physical, most are emotional. Nonetheless they’re there, constantly reminding me of the lessons I’ve learned.