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Accepting My Scars In Summer Season

Tuesday 19 June 2018


TW // this post contains references to self-harming. There are support links mentioned at the bottom of this post if you're struggling - please please use them :))


This is a topic I've wanted to address for a while, even though it's quite a sensitive subject and quite personal, but as someone who first started self harming four and a half years ago and therefore has quite a lot of experience in dealing with the scars and the stigma that comes with it, there's almost an obligation that I really don't mind having to share those experiences and how I came to accepting my scars for what they are.

Self-harm scars have always been seen differently to other scars. People like to stare, even if, like me, you don't have that many visible ones. But as soon as they've looked they turn away quickly, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. They're a tough thing to look at, especially since people who have never been in that situation can't possibly understand why someone would do that to themselves, and I think that's why people stare - almost out of some sort of gruesome fascination with the concept of hurting yourself. We with visible scars are labelled as crazy or psychotic because who on earth other than a psycho would hurt themselves that much?! The stigma around self-harm scars are one of the bigger issues we as mental health sufferers and survivors struggle with because people just don't understand it. We also get seen as exhibitionists - showing our scars off because we want people to stare and comment and we want to draw attention to us - we often can't win. If we cover them we're not accepting ourselves and if we show them we're attention seeking.

But why does that mean we should be ashamed of them? For the longest, longest time I would subject myself to wearing sweatshirts and long sleeves in the height of summer because I didn't want anyone at school to see the ninety cuts up my left arm and gaze at me with that pitiful look that they have when they've just slapped you with the label 'crazy'. Or at least that's what I thought everyone did.

When I started therapy in June 2014, over the course of the year I was with CAMHS, I gradually began to realise that actually, people didn't always stare because they thought I was a psycho and they didn't always have pity in their eyes. Sometimes, they had admiration. You see, these aren't scars because we're crazy. They signify the battles we've had with ourselves, battles that we've won every single time. They label us as fighters. And fighters don't cover their battle scars. We wear them proudly, showing everyone just how strong we are - we're survivors of the enemies in our heads and that's no less valid than being a survivor of a physical illness.

The thing is, there are people out there who will always be ashamed of our scars.

But me? I am not, not anymore.

Em xx

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