19/10/12 ∞ { Friday, 19 October 2012 @ 03:41 } CMT +

triggering maybe? idk

I love my scars. I don't hide them, I'm rarely conscious of them and they're a comfort if I'm ever nervous. I'm comfortable with them being there and I know why each one is there, when it happened, why it happened and its life cycle. I'm so comfortable I can write this post and not worry - well, everything makes me anxious so I am worried, but no one reads these so it doesn't matter. The only thing I dislike is the funny purple colour and the tightness of them in the winter. But all of a sudden, I'm filled with guilt and distress? I don't know what the guilt is over. Maybe the feelings my family experience when they see them? I don't get it. I've never once felt bad about them. I have difficulty understanding what's wrong with them. Everyone has scars, I just have hundreds and that's not a bad thing to me. I see other people with scars of the same nature, and I don't think "oh what a freak, they should cover those up or get rid of them" so why do I feel bad about mine and feel like I should hide them? Why can't I currently look at myself without feeling sick? Why can't I look at them without the realisation that no one is going to see them the same way I do and no one is going to like me. I think this realisation was caused by my doctor, well one of them. He took my blood pressure and the thicker scars are where he put the band. He's never seem them because he's not my regular doctor (my regular doctor likes my scars and says they're pretty and in a nice pattern!! ugh she's cute) so he kind of freaked and phoned my counselor in a panic. My counselor just found it funny because he had the normal reaction of: "omg shit panic they're clearly suicidal". Even though my counselor did say people are stuck on the stigma attached to "self harm" (don't like that term because ew but saying i'm a masochistic nutjob sounds worse) so they will panic, and that it will happen, it's never happened (apart from parents finding out but that's a time i would like to forget sigh) I've never come across someone that panicked. I'm so used to people either staring, judging me silently and not saying anything or we all just carry on with our lives because they know its none of their business. The whole him freaking out, has kind of put forward the reality of: you will be judged, people can see it and it will be there for the rest of your life - people will see your ugly arms and think "nope not going near them" or you'll be laughed at or w/e and all of a sudden I'm terrified. I'm shit scared because of stigma attached to something that nobody can be bothered to understand. Granted, if I personally tried to explain it, people would think I'm a nutjob/wouldn't come near me/it would just make everything worse. But I don't want to be scared because my way of "coping" or my fetishes are slightly different to yours or rather I just want to be comfortable with it again. I hope it goes away by the morning and I hope it stays away. My scars were the only thing I liked about myself, I don't need anything else on that list rn. It'd probably help to restart all my meds, because for some reason I stopped taking them all at once again and now I'm hilariously unstable and seeing/hearing things again. Shame. I can barely remember to take them anyway. Oh wait, it doesn't matter!! Apparently, if I can talk about these things there must be nothing wrong with me and I must be a-ok. Ok. Yeah, you think like that. You think little of me because you and the rest of the word think "people with mental health problems can't talk about them and if they can they're fine and just attention seeking" and i'll just sit here, laughing because you're a fucking moron. (plus i can only talk about them online because lol it's just pixels, irl it's the polar fucking opposite)