ninety.five

when i was 18 i made the decision to 'fix myself'. i can't remember any particular event that precipitated this, and so can only assume that my desire to work out all of my issues, banishing them to my past, was the result of a culmination of experiences. with a dr phil book in hand, i began to explore my demons, determined to discover and destroy them all during an extended family holiday in the caribbean.

looking back, i think i was very brave, but i was also very naive. although looking at wounds can help them heal, they do often leave scars. the deeper the wound, the bigger the scar; and whilst i most certainly caught a glimpse of previously unacknowledged wounds, i was misguided in my attempt to transform known scars into nothingness. scars can and do fade, but the deeper the wound, the less likely this is to happen. for some of our hurts, scars are the final destination.

and this rule rings true not just for my hurts, but for some of my least desirable traits and idiosyncrasies. for whatever reason, i'm someone that internalises...um...almost everything. i get caught up in my head far too much, to the extent that i can think my days away. i weigh up every option for so long that i don't get anything done. i dream so much that i get attached to them and get nervous about my ability to make them a reality.

this is my scar. my scar that i have seen a million times. my scar that i have accepted will not fade. it's one of the reasons why my achievements might seem bigger to me than they do to others, and also why i find it hard to bask in them for very long.

so, almost 10 years since that first dr phil book, i'm embarking on a new mission. not to erase my scars, but to consistenly be more than just the sum of them. to turn my burdens into quirks. to learn how to carry on regardless with a much quicker turnaround. to turn the noise down in my head and make more noise with my mouth. to take less mental steps and walk more miles with my feet. to use my fingertips not just to press against my temples in despair, but to write the beautiful stories of my heart that are far more persistent than i deserve.

i'm fixed on this.