BSday8

CW self harm - it gets a bit heavier here. I am not asking for advice or validation, but if you feel so moved to share it, then I thank you for your time. I just need to express this in a semi-public space.

I have a lot of scars. When I was a kid, I got swarmed by fire ants. Anaphylactic shock, rushed to the hospital. Spent the whole summer in a calamine lotion bath. We lost count at 200 blisters. I wound up so pockmarked for years, mostly on my legs and torso. They’ve pretty much faded, but they never bothered me. They were proof that I survived a traumatic event. They made me feel strong.

My hands and forearms are scarred to hell. Scratches and bites from fractious patients. Dogs and cats that didn’t want me to help them. Sometimes I had to fight them, but never once in hate. I’d hold them down so we could perform treatment. I’m proud of every one. Every scar from a patient is a scar my friends and colleagues don’t have.

A few scars are from my own cat. She had a bad reaction to medication, you’d call it “paradoxical agitation”. They were the worst months of her life. She hated me and wanted me dead. I thought it would lead to a discussion about her quality of life, and end in her humane euthanasia. Thank God we figured out the culprit and she’s on her way to being just like her old, crepuscular self. Those scars are emblems of my love for her. I’d do anything to keep her from having to go through that again.

There is a patch of skin on my left shoulder, about three by three inches. I chose it intentionally so it would always be hidden behind my sleeve. There are dozens of scars overlapping there, and I put them all there myself. The how and why doesn’t matter so much (hence, Brain School). The issue I’m facing right now is the scars themselves.

They are a reminder of my weakest moments. They are shame and guilt literally burned into my flesh. Weirdly, there’s even a level of shame with imposter syndrome. I feel like my self harm wasn’t “that bad”. It’s a small area. It’s easily hidden. Other people have it worse. I know that isn’t true, but the emotion itself sure is. And, of course, the embarrassment of even reaching that point.

I chose an easy to hide patch of skin, but I didn’t consider that having to hide it still takes effort. I haven’t been shirtless in public in years. I’ve never even told my friends or family that I’ve scarred myself, just that I’ve been “in a dark place”. I feel like I’m carrying that dark place with me everywhere I go, and I don’t know what to do.

Our lesson yesterday was on disclosure. How much do you share? How do you choose what to share? I think I need to share this. I’m tired of carrying it alone. As I mentioned at the top, that’s why I’m writing this here and now. I’m not asking any of you to bear this with me, or be the first people I actually show. But I need to tell someone. I’m kind of practicing here how I’m going to share it with my loved ones. Now I just need to figure out who. I’ll probably discuss this with my therapist next week.

I wish I didn’t wait until Friday afternoon to have these thoughts.

[JK]