I'm Stuck on Bandaid Brand

Sleep is hard-pressed when a mind is unsettled. Very often I'm awake in my bed with troubled thoughts, worries, and fears. Thoughts, worries, and fears that some how, some way my scars that are buried so deep will tear open or worse, history will, indeed, repeat itself.

Many scars boast of dare-devil stunts or funny debacles. But some scars are deeper...harder to see...more difficult to explain. Some are hardly yet scars; resembling more of an open wound...one that was once thought to be buried deep and bandaged tightly.

I may not be the soldier serving, but my boots are just as dirty. My uniform may not be emblazoned with a badge from battle, but it exists none the less. My soul carries the burden, my heart carries scars of bitterness and hate, my memories are tainted with secrets and fears.  A soldier doesn't leave a war...it follows him forever; it becomes part of who he is, who he was, and changes a family. What I once thought was forgotten is now ever present. I thought I packed it away to be lost in a dusty storage room. But now it is ever-present on my mind. No help was sought; no discussions were had; no closer was granted; no forgiveness was spoken. No need to declare a bad guy because all carry the title of victim.

The damage has been done. Unable to undo the past or circumstances or outcomes, I struggle getting past "the past". I struggle granting forgiveness for which has not yet been requested; I struggle letting go of hurts for which have yet to be apologized. I am more guarded and detached because of what resides inside deep within my soul.

What I once thought was a battle scar seems to be an open wound...one that chokes me in the dark of the night...one that becomes more real with every passing hour...one that taunts me with memories I thought were hidden...one that I fear may be revisited..............