Blue Lights, Ribbons, And Starving The Dragon

The scars have healed.

They have healed and yet still are visible. No matter how I touch them with my fingers or wish them away, they are permanently etched in my skin. Trophies of what I've no doubt attempted to kill me, I suppose they should be respected and treasured. Right now, I just find them ugly reminders of a dark side I never realized was there. 

I wish I could say that the urge to engrave again has completely gone away but it hasn't. It has been a daily battle, one I have fought with every bit of strength I possess, no matter how small it may seem. Sometimes it comes on me all at once, other times it tip toes but no matter how it chooses to approach me, its presence is like a wet blanket that has been coated with cement laid across my shoulders. 

It's a frightening feeling when that urge hits. I've spent the better part of my life with the notion of not having it in me to do something like this anyhow for any reason. Now that I have, who is to say that I wouldn't attempt to take it further. A rather unsettling thought to feel so out of control. 

World Autism Awareness Day was April 2nd. Campaigns across the country to light it blue, light it red, light it gold, or to paint a rainbow with multi-color lights to show the spectrum in all of its diversity. I live in the lower peninsula of Michigan and for the last two years, the cables of the Mackinac Bridge have been lit blue throughout the month of April. Over the past year I've made ribbons for autism and had contacted the sponsoring organization about making some for the bridge lighting. I was thrilled to say the very least!

And then the dragon came to the door and I found myself in the ring again, dodging blows, jabs, and fiery darts. He poked at my scars continuously and the urge to engrave was almost overwhelming. My body hurt, my stomach nauseous from the pain. 

I am determined. The dragon is not going to win this fight! I will not die! I will live!! I will survive!!!

In those moments of wanting to engrave, I sought my craft bag and went to work instead.  Scissors, glue, buttons, backings, and gemstones. Five spools worth of ribbons were the result. Light bulbs were changed out from standard to blue. My winterberry tree I had bought at Christmastime was brought in from the garage and donned here and there with ribbons. The urge was there, the dragon had roared. But I refused to feed him. 

It has been a month thereabouts since my scars appeared. The urge is there but growing smaller. Though the dragon roars, he will not be fed. I am more than these scars. Four beautiful souls look to me and depend upon me to be there and to fight for them. I am their voice. They are my rock! I will live!! I will survive!!