More, or Less

In hospital, one of the nurses told me that people are self-healing.  The body is self-healing and so is the mind, or the heart, or whatever there is.  I took that away and I thought about it until later, when I said (less poetically):

But think of a cut. It heals itself, it gets better, it seals, the blood clots and the skin knits over it.  But there’ll be a scar.  Scars can be permanent and we may have been healed, but that doesn’t mean there’s been no change.

She said: Scar tissue is stronger than skin.
She said: Not all change is bad.

I thought: I have more scars than skin.
I thought: That change is bad.  Has been bad.  I don’t want to come back from this as a scar.

Well, I’ve come back.  I feel more stable, more level, more capable. I look back on some of the things I was saying and doing before I went In, and they are scary.  Worrying.  Logical, channelled, certain… but not right.  My logic went step by step on a parallel path.  I need to try to stay on this one.

Am I more me now, or less so?  I always come back different.  Maybe it’s barely discernible, like a fleck of another colour in my hair.  Maybe others wouldn’t notice.  But it’s there, and for me it’s a shift of everything, however subtle.  Sometimes it’s not subtle; sometimes my goals, my aims, my outlooks change.  I know that might not be a bad thing, I’m told people change all the time.

(We self-heal, don’t we.)

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