Invisible Scars

I was wet, face puffy and red and I could not stand to stand a moment longer.

I was so weak, I didn't think I could take it.

In the first few days after I witnessed how the Lord gives and takes, I was living a nightmare and then when sleep came, more nightmares consumed. I wasn't sleeping. I would wake early. I wanted to sit and do nothing but I couldn't remain still.

When sleep wouldn't offer the rest I so desperately needed, I left. I would find trails and walk, trying to escape reality by running from it.

It never worked.

I walked/ran and the rain came. I am not sure how long the rain had been falling when I looked down and noticed my clothes were soaked through, confused by the wet. I walked/ran some more and then left.

I didn't want to go home. I could not tolerate to be present in places where I used to be really present when my sweet girls were still with me.

I went to the store. I don't know why but I did.

I am sure people thought I was crazy. I looked crazy. Hair all wild and wet, mismatched clothes soaked through, red and swollen face with empty, blank eyes . . . I looked crazy.

I wondered aimlessly around the store, trying to steer clear of anything baby. I remember standing in the middle of an aisle but when I realized what I was not moving, people dodging the crazy lady, I had no idea I had been standing there. Everything was gray and nothing made sense. The smallest things would paralyze.

I bought some things and while at the self-check-out, a lady behind me got really upset because she had to wait her turn to ask for assistance. She was not checking out, "she just. had. a. question". She was huffing and puffing and cursing at the woman who came before her because she now had to wait. What a great inconvience.

I couldn't take her emotion. It weakened me further.

I wanted to turn around and punch her! I wanted to hit her and tell her to shut up! I wanted a release for all the emotion boiling inside of me. She was not helping me, she was making it worse. I just wanted, needed to hit someone . . . something!

I didn't hit her. I don't know why but I didn't.

Instead, her anger, her sense of entitlement almost paralyzed me. I became so heavy I couldn't move. I forgot what I was doing. I forgot how to swipe the chosen items across the scanner. I forgot how to pay. I forgot what money was and what it was for. I remember the word 'payment' confused me. The people behind were getting upset with me. I could feel the stares. I could hear the silent huffs and curses.

I started crying. Couldn't they see? Wasn't it evident?

My scars, weren't they visible for all too see? I just needed an ounce of compassion, an ounce of grace. I got none.

I can not and I will not look at others the same anymore. People don't make mistakes or take longer because they are trying to inconvience others. They may just be having a hard time wading through the muck that has been deposited at their feet.

People with lost limbs or bald heads covered in scarves, their scars are visible. But there are a whole slew of souls walking around, trying to do life, covered with invisible scars.

Stephanie