Epidermis Profundus

I have thought long and hard about the cruel words that occasionally come my way. It's actually amazing they don't come more often, but 99.9% of the feedback I have ever received here has been positive. Maybe that's why it's so shocking to hear something negative. I could start a blog on casserole recipes or little stories about my cat and would expect more negativity. In the old days, I would have cried for two days. This time, there were no tears shed whatosever. Instead, the four ugly words followed me like obscene little ghosts as I went about my daily activities, but a glance over my shoulder reveals that they are beginning to vaporize. Knowing the way I think, I will likely never forget them, but they will get shoved in a box somewhere in my brain.

My skin doesn't feel very thick, but maybe I am making progress after all. If someone pokes fun at my son by calling him horrible names and it doesn't bother me, my guess is that there would be something incredibly wrong with me. I want thick skin, not gnarly calluses.

Right?

Of COURSE it will hurt my heart. However, I hope that with each passing year it gets a little easier to heal these types of wounds. That they will feel less like axe wounds and more like paper cuts. I have faith that it will be easier. Looking at my latest response, it is clear that it already has. I can hardly read what I wrote two years ago here, as my heart fractures into millions of pieces. I am enjoying life again. That's progress.

When I started this blog, I did it thinking I was just whispering my feelings into the darkness of the universe because, quite frankly, I didn't know what else to do or where to turn. Writing has always been a comfort to me ever since I could hold a pencil. To find out someone is actually reading my words and might even feel a little less alone, WS child or not -- well, that's comforting to me, too.

It's nice to be heard and have hands to hold. Thank you.