Warning If You Don’t Like The Stuff In This Post, I Don’t Give A Fuck
So I feel really weird. When I got out of the shower this morning and was doing my usual lotion routine I noticed the scars on my arm have almost completely faded. And usually when I feel sad about them I look at the ones on my thighs, because they were deeper and just more visible. (I do try really hard not to do this ’cause it’s really triggering, but I was doing pretty okay so I didn’t think it would be that bad.) So I went to look at my thighs and they’re pretty much gone. Maybe if I look really close I get a very faint line, but for the most part nope they’re gone.
I just….I know I should be happy about this, that my body won’t be permanently marked from all of the shit that I survived in my head. That I should be happy because I’m almost better and I did this all on my own. But…. I mean. They’re a part of who I am. And watching them fade is like watching a part of myself die. I know it sounds really melodramatic but that’s how I feel. I put them there for a reason, even if it was a really bad reason. They’re the physical representation of something that profoundly affects who I am today. (I know I’m being wordy, it’s just the easiest way to explain how I feel.) So it feels like I’m watching a big part of myself, and a big portion of my teenage years/life just fade away.
And I don’t feel ready for that. I don’t want to forget how I felt, what I went through. I don’t want to forget the way it feels to cut myself. Because it makes it seem like I went through all of that for nothing. Which I know intellectually at least, is true. There was absolutely no real reason for me to do that to myself and all of the resulting pain and emotional bullshit I went through was entirely my fault. I’m not asking for a pity party. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me because I did it to myself.
But it also feels like I’m finally ending a big chapter of my life. And I’m so so not ready for that. I’m not ready for it to be “I used to have problems” I want it to stay “I have some problems” I don’t know why. I know I should be happy but I’m not. I also feel the overwhelming urge to put them back. Which I’m not going to. And honestly my reasons for not doing so are supremely shitty. It’s not because I know it’s wrong, even though I do. It’s because if I do “relapse” Josh won’t have sex with me until they’re at least mostly healed. Which I get and am not mad at him for, but it sucks. Call me petty, but I’d rather have an orgasm than another scar. Plus I haven’t done anything since I was a minor, and if I do it again I wouldn’t just be a “troubled teen” I’d be labeled mentally unsound or something. Which is pretty much the reason for my second really shitty reason: If Josh wanted to, he could leave and take my baby and I probably wouldn’t be able to get as much custody of my Smidget.
Sometimes I use the other more sensible nicer, prettier arguments like Josh loves me and I don’t want to hurt him and I have a happy family and I don’t want to explain this to my baby girl when she’s older. But when I’m mid-walk to find something stabby it’s usually the first two arguments that stop me.
So I’m not going to. I know I’m done hurting myself. But suddenly it’s not something I just think to myself anymore, it’s happening now. This is the longest I’ve ever gone without a relapse. This is 3 and a half years since I quit. I know it’s over. I just don’t want it to be. And I don’t know why. I know I should be happy, but I can’t explain why I’m not.
I do know that in a few years, If I can actually make it over a year without relapsing, I’m going to get a big phoenix scarification piece on my back. It might seem weird for the former self-harmery person to go with a scarification, but I think it would be more delicate, lighter, and feminine than a regular ink tattoo. And I want to make my phoenix as beautiful as possible. But I will be getting regular tattoos as well. I have one that I’ve been dead set on ever since Josh and I got the idea. And one that I recently thought up and have been loving the idea of ever since.
And since I’m super depressed from writing all of this out and dealing with it instead of avoiding it:
Adorable baby bunny
Funny offensive meme.