Part of Me

“All scars fade with time”

That is what they told me

That once the wound closes

You’ll move on

Sure, you’ll look at the marks left behind

In remembrance and sorrow

With anger and relief

But some day

You’ll forget they’re there

And soon enough

They’ll disappear entirely

But I don’t know if it’s that simple

When I look down

I see skin that’s not quite smooth

I stare into the mirror

Where red and pink once stood in ugly unison

In its place now lay lines of white against dark skin

Still fading

But I still can’t help but feel loss in the absence of those marks

As if they are a part of me

Like I’m forgetting a part of my identity

When I know I’m not

When I know those pieces are not what define me

When I know I’m so much more

But this fear of losing things I should be happy to be rid of

Claws for my attention

And I’m caught mid step between moving forward and falling back

I teeter on the edge of wanting familiarity or freedom

And I don’t know what to do

But know this also

That these scars have changed me

Yes, they are a part of me

And they always will be

I can’t change that

But with or without them

I’m whole

My scars will never truly fade

They will stay with me in mind

And my heart



Wow, that was an experience. To say the very least.

But this is something I’ve been thinking about and struggling with. For a long time I was desperate to separate who I was/am from my depression and more specifically this visible/physical representation of my depression. Then I went through a period of almost flaunting my scars because I was so tired of feeling ashamed of them.

And now I’m here.

And I think I’m at a point of peace and acceptance. At least for now.

I don’t know how many of you (or if any of you at all) have gone through this but I hope you can take something away from this.

Until next time

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