Hold on like a Zebra

Say you have an open wound that is in the healing process and you place something in it- something that doesn’t belong there- and leave it there until the wound heals. It becomes a part of you. It is trapped under the flesh. It cannot be moved. Not that this is something you should do, it’s simply a metaphor, a symbol. So here we are, with some foreign object trapped under your skin. What does this relate to?
Say you have this tire and this huge luscious lawn. Drop this tire onto the flowing green grass and don’t touch it for a month. When you come back and pick up this tire, move it someplace different, you leave a dead patch. This tire killed the life underneath it by smothering it. It held it down, kept it quiet, until it lost its breath- lost its color. This isn’t me telling you to go and vandalize your gorgeous lawn, this also is a metaphor. What does this symbolize?
Go back to the healed wound, pretend it didn’t scar. All you have is this lump from where you left this foreign object- say this is a mini army man in your skin- just stay with me here. It doesn’t belong, everyone can see it. It makes you different, not in the good way, but the “Oh my God, that man has a giant penis shaped birth mark on his eye!” kind of way. Okay, so a lumpy green place on your skin isn’t as bad as a penis shaped birth mark, but you get what I mean. You want this out. You regret your stupidity and want this army man that you stole from your little brother out of your skin. The way you remove this is up to you. You can do it the right way- the doctor and a scalpel, or the wrong way- digging with a fork. The way you remove this makes no difference to the overall metaphor. Bottom line, you now have a hole in your arm.
Now our two subjects- the wound and the dead grass- are cousins. They have come full circle and now have a relation to each other. They are both ugly oddities that stick out.
Here is your relation- replace the grass with you and the tire with a deep, painful experience. Replace your skin with your heart and the army man with this experience of your choice. You’ve held onto this for a while. Your tire covered it and your skin hid the truth. But now you have removed it- revealed your soul and poured out your harbored hate and pain. But see, they left scars, evidence. You tried to get rid of them, make them seem like they weren’t ever there. But let’s face it, a random tire sitting in a pretty yard and a lumpy green man under your flesh- they stick out, you notice them. So we can’t leave that. And now, you’ve given up hiding them and you have a seeping wound and dead grass.
You don’t really have a seeping wound after revealing your secret, your experience, no one can see it. It feels like everyone can see the hole in the middle of your chest, but they really can’t. You. You are the only one who can see it. You’re the only one who can feel the absence of the army man, the tire, the pain. It’s like when someone looses their arm. They can see it’s gone, and see that is doesn’t work. But they still feel it itch sometimes. You still feel the aching pain even after you removed what doesn’t belong. You feel like you wasted your time. Not only does it still hurt, but now someone else knows your pain.
If you break a bone and let it heal with medical attention, you have to break it again before it can heal properly. So this new pain isn’t really new. It’s the same old pain just brought to the surface and to your attention. It was there all along and you just got used to it. But now- here’s the good part- now your grass can grow back. Your arm skin can be lump-less. Your pain will fade away. You have to look back at something before you erase it, and now that you’ve brought this up it can go away for good.
See, doesn’t that feel better-
Jessica D. Hunt