Scab Picking

The ink has been dry on my divorce papers for 31 days. One month. And I have had sex with my ex husband 6 times now. Why am I doing this?

Because, apparently I am like a child with a busted knee. I'm fascinated with this scab that has formed in my life. It's the beginning of healing, but it's still obvious that there was a trauma there. So like any curious 6 year old- I'm picking at it.

It feels good for a little while. (Until the next day when I realize this is the wackiest place I have ever found myself in!) It's interesting...and also kind of hard to stop. But I am at least self aware enough to know that if I keep picking, I will undoubtedly start to bleed and end up with the same gaping wound that I started with. I have confessed my shenanigans to my therapist. She smiled knowingly and told me not to be so hard on myself.

She's always a little more lenient with the grace than I expect. God love her.

I have intentions to stop picking at scabs. I'll keep you posted.

Of course, you should know that I have had intentions to stop picking at scabs several times before to no avail. Just a heads up, so you won't be surprised when I start blogging about needing a proverbial band-aid.