Back in San Francisco I knew a homeless guy who used to sell jokes for a quarter. Then his foot got sliced open and he found that sympathy got him a lot more money than humor. So he never let his foot heal. Once a week or so he’d take a steak knife and open it up again.
As horrific as that sounds I do the same thing in my mind. Emotional scars, some forty to fifty years old, are torn open over and over again. Familiar pain relived.
Some wounds just never heal, especially if you don’t let them.