I don’t believe that anyone else’s pain is worse than an others. I don’t believe that it is helpful to say, well only this happened to me and so and so has it so much worse. All of us have had a variety of different experiences that build our schema and we deal with all that is thrown at us, the best we can or to the best of our abilities at that time. What happened to me was painful and traumatizing for me.
I have never been to war, so I don’t know what it is like to watch another die. I do not know the horror my husband knows. The helplessness. The rage. I don’t know the exact images that kept him awake for nearly a year after he came home, but watching him go through that process, I can imagine, just a bit, what it is like when I read stories of other veterans that are coming home and dealing with the harsh realities of war.
My husband came home, so I do not know what it is like to get that knock on the door and see those Marines in their Dress Blues with solemn looks on their faces, but I know what it is like to sit and wait and wonder if that knock is going to come, so I can imagine, just a bit, what it is like when I hear about a woman who has just lost the love of her life.
Those that have never been attacked while their daughter watches do not the exact feelings of guilt or shame or fear that I have, but reading my story, helps one know, just a bit, about how it does feel.
My friend was mugged many years ago when she lived in Arlington Virginia. It was late, a man approached her, asked her for her purse,, she refused, he grabbed it. She is a fighter, so she refused to let go. He drug her a few feet got the purse and took off. He never put his hands on her. He never threatened her with words. Her child was not present and she even down played it in her own mind as she told her friends about what happened. No big deal. He go my money, but as time passed and she learned that this same man later mugged another person at gun point, she got more scared. For a year and a half she would get absolutely terrified if she saw a man walking down the street. Her fear was real. For her, that was the scariest thing to have happened to her and it was real, regardless of anything else that happened to anyone else, she felt what she felt and she had to heal in her own time.
Each of us has the right to feel what we feel and we have the right to allow ourselves the freedom to be in pain; however, if we are serious about healing, there is much that can be learned from others tragedies and their triumph.
When bad things happen to us, personally, they leave a mark. I have some on the outside and some on the inside. E’s marks are all internal, but can sometimes be seen. Regardless of where the scars are, we get to decide if they will remain hard and callused or if they become beautiful symbols of love and courage.
I recently read a blog post by a woman who was in a plane crash and burned over 90% of her body. She has had a remarkable journey and she has been incredibly open about her struggles. Before the crash she was the epitome of what the world says is beautiful. She was young, thin, striking in her features. She was kind and gentle and she was happy, very, very happy. She admits to putting a lot of value and joy in her looks. Not vanity, but she liked her reflection in the mirror and although she had much bigger issues, this was one she often wrote about. Recently she posted about a family presentation her son did at his school and what happened on the playground. I have been thinking about how she is finding strength not so much in her scars, but in the love she has regardless of them.
The lesson isn’t in suck it up, someone has it worse. The lesson is what do you have that is worth the fight to heal those scars?
Beautiful women are beautiful both because of and despite their scars.
You can’t apply math, you can’t use a formula, you can’t measure scars. You can see the strength that overcomes adversity.
So true!
Each person has his/her own demons to deal with. We are all in the same boat and have to make it through the day. I’m happy for everyone who makes it through.
I am happy for them too. Life can be hard and it’s nice for those that can keep moving forward!
I have the professional background and training to expound greatly on the after effects of criticle incidents on victims and survivors.Instead I’ll simply say that you lost a piece of yourself and had to work towards recovering so that you could instill somenthing better in its place.Some can work through this, some take longer than other’s, some will never attempt to do so…
Thank you!!,
Good post, and Sport Pilot is correct… Call it PTSD, or what ever term you want, some of us come back, some never do… YOU make your own choices!
We do, we do, at some point make our own choices, but it sure makes it easier to have the support of those that came before us. I certantily think my choice to move forward is important, but I would have hated to do it alone. Thank God, I didn’t have to;)
Well said……
Thank you!
I have made mention of something like this before. Each person’s experience is their own and another’s greater tragedy doesn’t make their own any less painful to them. How you handle the emotions is what matters. Turning fear into rage and power and turning pain into strength is a virtue.
Absolutely right, but gosh darn it if so many of us don’t know it. Thankfully there are people willing to tell us, sometimes repeatedly:)
People all handle things different, even combat troops who experience the same things all handle it different.
My sister was shot 8 years ago in a work place shooting that disabled her and killed two of her friends. Early in her recovery, her mantra was, ” I can get bitter or I can get better.” She got better and is my hero.
Mary, both you and your sister are very inspirational!! I I have been blessed by how you and her have overcome tragedy.
We all have scars, some are visible, some we only touch gingerly, tracing with ghost fingers as we lay in bed, listening to our child sleep. But what matters is going forward with them, humbly or with pride, surviving, measuring our longivity against fate.
Sometimes the scars hinder, sometimes they propel. What mattered was you keep moving, turning away from shades of darkness, rising like a pheonix to the sound of a booming gun.
I can’t count the times I have thought “how will my scars – emotional and physical effect my children”. How will my reactions to events impact how my boys view life? There is no real way to know – other than to be assured that a keeping a postive attitude will positively effect the boys view on life.