The other week I bought some scar fading serum. I haven’t used it yet because I keep forgetting, but it promises to reduce their appearance within 12 weeks.
Looking down at my arms now, my skin is crisscrossed with white and pink lines. Some of my scars are still very pink and angry-looking, probably reflecting well the kind of mood I was in when I made them. Some of them are so faded that they’re lighter than my unharmed skin. And there are some more fresh marks on my arms too…
I have some memories that are very painful, nights where I was an emotional wreck and I made a right mess of my arms or legs. And I couldn’t forget them if I tried, they’re etched on my skin for the rest of my life. I often think about the kind of tattoos I would like to get to cover my scars. I mentioned how I like tattoos to my mum the other day and that didn’t go down so well… It is a really pill to swallow when your mum disapproves of something that you have set your heart on for years. I don’t want her to disapprove of me, but it seems impossible to avoid. Part of who I am is what I like and dislike, and I really like tattoos and piercings.
Anyway, I’m not here to write about body modification. I have been pleasantly surprised to see how I have changed and improved with regards to my self-harm. Yesterday I was impossibly stressed about finances and about my studies (as well as feeling lonely), but you know what I did? I couldn’t get the thought of hurting myself out of my head, but I didn’t give in. Instead I got a coffee and went and sat outside. I had a cigarette in one hand (okay not the best thing, I’ll admit, but still), and a pen in the other. I wrote down how I was feeling. Sometimes all you need is to just get outside, surround yourself with nature and try to get out of your own head. And then I messaged my friend and we went for coffee and a chat. I didn’t keep it to myself, I didn’t suffer alone or hurt myself. And you know what? It worked infinitely better than any blade could. And it felt good.
I’ve definitely come far from where I used to be. And another thing: I’ve become so much better at expressing myself, and putting my thoughts and feelings into words. Whether that’s thanks to writing on here and in my journal, or because of practicing it in therapy, I don’t know.
It’s just cool to see that things do change, although you may seem stuck, or moving frustratingly slowly towards recovery, things will get better. Just hold in there, I believe in you. xoxox