So in the continuing saga of my health I ended up in the hospital again last week. I had discovered a lump under my scar and it was getting painful on a regular basis. After two days of not being able to sleep my fiancée and her mother took me to the hospital. I saw two nurses within 20 minutes and they informed me I had to see the doctor.
Queue the waiting, nearly three hours of it. After which I saw him for ten minutes he told me it was scar tissue from the surgery and to take pain killers and go home. Which was a nice waste of the day, but hey; Better safe then sorry, right?
This got me thinking though. This isn’t the only scar tissue I have, I have lots. Not all of it of the conventional type too. Don’t get me wrong I have plenty of scars, don’t get to live my kind of life without a few marks on the flesh. I’ve got a snapped tendon, burn marks, cuts all over my hands from work, art and play. I’ve even got a dirty great incision mark across my stomach, and that baby ain’t gonna fade for a long time. But these aren’t the scars I carry day to day, they aren’t the ones that shape me as a man. The ones that dictate my actions, effect my emotions and influence my approach to life.
Those ones are much more personal. Cut deeper than any knife could ever incise me, and will last a long time after my stomachs healed over and paled. And we all have these scars unseen except to those with eyes to see. I’m not going to go all cathartic here and tell you all what a horrible horrible childhood I had. Yes my father left when I was young, he’s a waste of space and oxygen. But my mother did her best to bring me up in a stable loving environment. In a house dependent on benefits in 1980’s Britain that wasn’t easy, but she did it. I was bullied at school, people close to me who didn’t deserve too died, I lost things important to me and fucked up a lot.
But these things happening are not what causes the scar tissue, it’s how we heel afterwards. Whether we come to terms with things and move on, or whether we bury it, ignore it or treat it badly. And that’s what we carry with us. The avoidance or unacceptance of our lives problems.
My major scar tissue would be the lack of ability to accept the stupidity of the public, particularly those in positions of authority. As far as personal issues go this does not rank up there with ‘I cut myself because daddy touched me’, but can be just as self destructive. I find myself again and again butting heads with people that I don’t need to. Time after time I could simply step aside, talk to someone else or even agree just for an easier life.
But I cannot. It is a flaw, and a destructive one at that. Where and when to fight, how to pick your battles; This is my major lack. A gaping hole in my personage. One that I intend to fill. No more the constant struggle to fight every just cause, to rage against every idiot with power. From now on I will hold my tongue, plan my actions. The fight for truth, justice and equality in this world will never be won. The truth of the matter is that as a species the human race is only a step above the cockroachs. But to win the war is not the objective, to fight the good fight is. To not fight against evil is to condone it.
And that may be another flaw of mine, but I cannot condone injustice, inequality or untruth. Maybe something else to work on.
I have some other news to write down. But I have now ish to turn this into a 12 page essay. So I will be posting another blog tomorrow after my trip to the joke shop, sorry job centre, all about my new exciting projects and news 😉
DAMN THE MAN!