They, whoever 'they' are, say that time heals all wounds. It may heal wounds on the outside, but I don't know that it does. I think there are some things that one just never, ever gets over.
The edges of the wound may start to come together and form a scar, but it's still tender. It still hurts. And no matter what you put on the wound to soften the scar to make it less noticeable, no matter how much it fades, it's still there. The scar reminds you of the original trauma when you feel it as the wind blows or the sun hits it just right, when you feel it as you get dressed or bump it on the doorway.
Eventually, a certain amount of numbness creeps in. It's as though you're in a constant state of shock. It's hard to feel anything but the pain. It never really gets better. It never, ever goes away.
It's still as fresh today as it was when I wrote this post 2 years ago about the loss of my nephew, Edward, to suicide. It's still as fresh as it was when we lost him 5 years ago. Still just as senseless today as it was then.
Please don't choose a permanent solution for a temporary problem. It really will get better.
Edward, we will always love you and miss you.
Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.
You can read the start of my journey here.