Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Bug Bites

I have mysterious bites all over my body and each day I wake up with more. In fact a few hours ago one showed up on my neck, surpassing this morning’s count of 30.  The first few days I agreed to scratch. When they itched, I scratched.  They pull at my skin and make my breath short and panicked. I wake up a night to myself scratching. It is hell. 
   
~~~ I have been asking The Creator for some advice on some more spiritual things. While writing on the topic above this morning, I found a startling parallel with the bites and my ego.  I believe God has answered me in the form of bug bites.  Hear me out. ~~~

Wounds from a past relationship are still present in my memory and on my heart. When the soft loneliness of my bones calls out with an itch, I willingly “scratch” by recalling the good times, recalling the bad, listening to old songs, going over old conversations and imagining future interactions.  By doing this I am choosing to scratch, to claw with traitor hands, turning a small bug bite into a large scabbed welt, allowing it to stay longer if it wishes, on my skin and in my heart, preventing the chance to heal.  I also show the bites to others--“Look at these! So many bug bites I have!”--just so everyone knows I’ve been bitten.

I have a broken heart, just so you know. There is someone I loved and once loved me, and it still hurts…just so you know.

I don’t want to have bug bites anymore. They are agonizingly itchy, they hinder my daily life, and they are ugly.  I don’t want to scratch them. I just want them to go away.  Just like I am ready to move on in my life, move away from the ghosts I still allow to haunt me.  But if I am truly ready, am I willing to stop scratching?  What good does digging my nails in, recalling the memories, fantasizing of a future with him do for me now? Here?  It leaves me with scars unhealed.  It leaves me unable to open up to the future.

Today at work we took the kids to the swimming pool for P.E.  I didn’t want to go, not with so many ugly bites.  I didn’t want the kids to see me, what would they say? What would the Spanish lifeguards say?

How long will you let these bites dictate who you are and what you do?!

Knocked sideways by the parallel of the bites and my heart, I decided I had no other choice but to swim. And I did.  I splashed, did underwater handstands, and I showed off with springboard dives.  I laughed and forgot about the itching and scratching. The chlorine even helped the bites calm down.  I had a wonderful day with the kids.





No more scratching. And bring on the spring blossoms, I want to heal.