Well, another piece for a moment of reflection from Mag,

Pain, we all experience it, whether it be physical or emotional. The beauty about physical pain, however, is that most physical pain usually goes away or the body takes care of itself in healing whatever causes the physical pain.

Pain that is in the mind however, the wounds driven to the depths of one soul through the acts and words of others, however, is not pain that goes away. It may hibernate, hide itself deep in the hidden recesses of the mind, only to ambush you when you are most vulnerable.

And the pain which washes over you from the mind is inescapable. The torrent of pain driven by events of the past is sometimes so violent and consuming, it is like being caught in a great sandstorm, unprotected by any type of vestment, slowly being gnawed away by the swirling sands, and the winds drive the granules deeper and deeper into your exposed form.

Mine is derived from what I experienced as a once morbidly obese individual. Though I am no longer that person, after losing 140 lbs to get into my profession, the memories of the treatment as a kid, and more so, the cruelties of people who did not see me as "worthy" of even trying to get into the military when I went through military school, still bring a resurgence of pain in my being.

For three years, I went to a military school. As soon as I arrived I cam to understand what was in store, due to the looks of sneering contempt from the upper class cadets I received. As soon as the niceties of students signing up and arriving, and all the parents departed, it began. The senior cadets essentially began a crusade to cull those they deemed unworthy of joining the organization, me in particular due to just how enormously overweight I was. For the next year, any term imaginable in for someone who was overweight was flung my way, and in order to attempt to break my spirit, there was a lot of extra physical training in store for me. The spirit never broke, but the body would, on more than one occasion. In one such occasion, when I passed out after a run session, one of the faculty approached me to try and encourage me to desist from this fool path, and "save some money" by not investing into what he believed to be a fool's errand. My only reply was silence, a quiet refusal because I did not wish to be left with any doubt, to let the question "what if" to haunt me. I did, however, have to repeat that year, for in spite all my progress in that year, I arrived there in such condition that I still did not quite meet military standards.

After the summer, I came to meet those standards by the first 1/3 of my second school year. However, in spite meeting the standards for height and weight, the opinion of the senior cadets, and of many of my peers, were cemented from the year prior, and I continued to experience the outright disdain from a majority of those whom I went to school with. The last two years I spent there are a testament as to why I continue to be amazed by just how ingrained one's negative opinion can remain of someone, no matter how hard one works to fix the very thing they have contempt for. Nevertheless, in spite the contempt of many of those above me and my peers, I was able to succeed and commission as an officer from that place.

However, that place left its mark, a mark I do not speak of in person. Nor do I really speak of the three years I spent at that organization to people I know in person, and it is only through the relative anonymity of this venue, of speaking through the character that is Mag, that I am comfortable of speaking about this at all. From my time and experience there, I have some deeply ingrained insecurities, and an resoundingly negative body image, regardless of how physically fit I may get. Aside from the pain of the individual offenses I suffered from the place, the inescapable storm that I have, the wounds that never truly cauterize into scars, are these deep insecurities that I suffer to this day. It is something that gnaws so strongly at me that I often prefer solitude than to dealing with people.

However, of that pain and insecurity, there does emerge at least one positive, I suppose. For those of you who have interacted with me, and have ever wondered why I tend to be polite and accommodating, that past experience is probably the major reason why. It is the reason why I often say that there is enough misery in the world, and I do not wish to contribute to it on my off time or in my interactions with others. So at least there is some solace that pain has brought growth.
...
But even the growth does not stop the hurt.





The marvelous artwork is by  oouna who perfectly captured the idea of just how inescapable the pain of the mind can be.

V/R,
Cap Mag.