accepting your scars

accepting your scars
bey

bey

Registrant
For people who carry physical reminders of abuse, maybe scars or illness, how do you accept them as part of who you are vs a painful reminder of who you were or maybe of who you will never be?
I guess I would like to see them as proof of what I can survive or something, I know there are people who see them like that, but when I look at myself right now I just see reminders of sadness and loss.
 
No, I think that makes sense. And I guess for a lot of mine feel the same way, they are just how I've always looked so I don't even notice. And if people ask, yeah I either tell them or I just shrug, because really they are just curious and don't really care.
But after my last surgery (indirectly due to abuse related injury) I just see myself as gross. I guess in time it will achieve freckle status.
 
I had forgotten about this--mine is not noticeable now or was it considered unusual then. I remember I fell in the cellar of the church one time. I ripped my blue uniform trousers. The cellar floor was rock and dirt. My knee bled and he, the abuser, put a band aid on it, pulling it closed. When I read this thread today I found myself looking at my knee for the first time in decades. It did not trigger me, just another reminder of what was. A very faded scar today--but with age one would think it was dried skin. I remember going home and saying I fell on the playground and the look I received from my Mom--a new pair of pants. In those days we only had one or two pairs of pants. My Mom took out the iron on patch, and I remember looking at that patched hole each time I wore the pants. I knew the truth but never told anyone until today. I had forgotten about it until now.

It never seems to end, the reminderss, big and small, the triggers.
 
It would be nice to be able to look in the mirror and not see *abuse*, but maybe that will just come with time. I have lots of scars i don't see any more.
And like you said, sometimes it isn't something you think about until suddenly you do.
Maybe it's like you have to get to a place where you are ok with the fact that it will never *not have happened*. And scars are just a physical reminder that healing doesn't mean it didn't hurt.
Or something, ha I'm just rambling now.
 
And a very profound ramble it is. :)

Certainly something to think about. Thanks.
 
The one physical scar I have from my abuse is comparatively small, just an inch or so on the last two knuckles on my left hand. The problem however is it also comes with a nasty memory that I don't like thinking about, and sinse my star and I have been doing a lot of hand holding anc caressing when we were together last week, it's something that bothers me, indeed I told her "there's a nasty story behind that scar but you don't want to hear it"

I was 14 and I was heading to an English Lesson. I was late sinse I'd been hiding out in a classroom from some of the regular taunts and unwanted touches and blows which occurred between lessons, I usually tried to get to lessons either very early, or just late to avoid spending too much time in the corridors.
The bell had gone and I ran across the outside area, unable to see anything due to it being very late.. I heard a yell of "oy fucking bastard!" behind me, which caused me to panic and thrust out my left hand violently, just a jerk reflex and my knuckles connected hard with the very rough stone wall.

I turned around and went into English, to find a crowd of people (including two of the major instigators of the abuse and some of the regularly violent boys), standing around in the classroom. I then felt something wet on my knuckles, running down my hand and dripping onto the floor, , and one of the girls yelled "uuuurgh! he's bleeding! ---- get it away I don't want his disease!"
I was then shoved by several people into a corner and was punched three times and spat on.
The teacher then turned up and the same girl (now in mock concern), said "miss he's bleeding!"

I was sent to the nurse to get a plaster, convinced that this was something revolting and was my fault.
However that wasn't the end of it sinse over lunch while walking down a corridor, one of the boys yelled "You! how's your hand!" and wrenched said plaster off in one movement before yelling "grose" I responded by tucking my hand into my shirt sinse I didn't want anyone to see it.
I was so convinced the scar was grose I tried scratching it off in the next few days, which of course was a bad idea, and when I realized it was perminant I felt disgusting.

So yes, I hate that scar and that memory, it makes me feel diseased.
Mostly I've been able to ignore it as has been said, but as I said sinse I was holding hands with my lady last week it occurred to me again.

I don't intend to tell her the above story, (she knows about my sa but I don't want to hurt her with the specifics), but maybe I'll ask her to kiss it for me, and prove I'm not diseased.

Luke.
 
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Whew - this one really took me back! Most of my permanent effects of the CSA was not physical evidence that was literally visible. Most of it was observable in my behavior or else carefully internalized so that nothing could be seen.

However there were visible effects and evidence of some of the physical abuse that I experienced usually from the same perps. The step-dad was careful not to allow any evidence to show. There were welts and bruises but they were all hidden under clothes and faded in time.

But I do have one very permanent reminder that has been with me since I was about 12. It resulted from a broken nose inflicted by a gang of bullies in my scout troop as part of an initiation. They smashed my face really well and gave me a concussion, two black eyes, and changed the shape of my nose forever. My face is not disfigured, per se, and my nose is not crooked or misshapen, but there is a bump on the bridge and it is probly a bit flatter than it would have been. I look different than what I would have otherwise. And my voice may sound different that it might have.

Once the black eyes went away and I recovered from the concussion, I dont know that I really thought that much about it. I used to be really self-conscious about the appearance of my nose but I dont think I was conscious of the injury having affected it I just thought it was too big for my face. As I became an adult, I eventually got used to the way I looked and didnt really worry about it. It was just the way it was. The new and not necessarily improved me. Maybe if it had been more obvious or unusual, it would have bothered me more but to tell you the truth, this is the first time in a long, long time that Ive even thought about the way that event shaped my appearance.

Lee
 
I do not have many visible scars, that I have managed to obtain from situations similar to traveler, my perps left a few though, however gratefully the physical ones were not from SA. However when I see them in the mirror, how can I not reflect on how they occurred (Lucky the few I have are mostly on my head and have shrunk with age), so the memories come too. I have after many years just come to terms with my "battle scars" as they are part of me, and so when people ask me bout them. I either do what Judd suggests, if that does not work I think to myself:

"Every scar tells a story" "which one do you want to hear" head scars like mine are easy to explain, I got drunk and fell over, cracked my head on a wall being stupid as a child etc.

It is never an easy thing for many people with scars.

Dark Empathy, your story has very, very strong echos of my own, and for people who have never experienced such taunting, emotional abuse, it is difficult for some to understand. My school was my own personal hell. Even as an adult when I pass both schools I went to, I always shuddered, my scars seemed to burn. A few years go they knocked my High School down, I was almost in tears with relief, of not having those buildings taunt me anymore. There are houses built on the ground now, but to me it is hallowed ground, I will hopefully never have to set foot on those grounds again! I vote via post because I do not have the courage to go to my Primary School to vote, because again the torment. So that has just given me thought, I suppose seeing those buildings and for any of us on here, those buildings where things happened in are also like the scars we carry, we see them we visualize.
 
I have collected plenty of scars over the years.
Some were from falling of my bycicle and scraping my knees over the bycicle pad into the bushes. I collected a Harry Potter style scar above my eye at a friends farm, when I was living in a small town.

Most are from physical abuse though. I don't think about them very much and they don't trigger me.
The only ones I could really do without though are the ones on my back, they are hard to explain, so I always wear a t-shirt when I swim and during soccer practice I didn't shower at the club etc.

And then of course finding out that I've got hiv when I was 18. Now THAT was intense at first, but now it's, yes, every time I have to go for checkups etc, a reminder of all of the abuse and it feels terribly unfair sometimes.
And I suppose when I have to start meds at some point it will bring up all kinds of emotions again, but right now I'm ok with it.
 
I don't know I enjoyed being stabbed and cutting my arms to reburn, I'm very protective but yeah I enjoy close death encounters because I'm not scared of death just the jail time and being round wasters , I'm cycling again now and breathing just dislocated my shoulder but ill recover , yeh death doesnt scare me as long as it fast
 
Aye, we all have scars, internal, external, emotional, my main ones are a few bricks to the head! And like Sven has mentioned, falling on my ass! I have some with good memories though "like the one on my knee, when I fell on my arse with my grandpa" (only positive male role model in my life, died when I was young *sigh*) I look at that one fondly, others are reminders, of not to be so stupid, i.e. from using knifes! I have handled. Some of them, many actually make me laugh in memory, and some from the madness. I have learned to live with the ones on my head (because I hardly see them), the landmark scar I saw is gone.

My biggest problem is, I can only feel intense pain, when out in the forests or up in the mountains, or when I used to work as a camp counselor during the summer, the amount of times people have said Hey CTF, your bleeding, and I respond usually, if I was bleeding I would think I would know. I can speak of some of them fondly! Hey CTF! How did you manage to get that huge scar on your left shin, its a weird shape! That one for example the answer is:= I had a relationship with a tree! It didnt like it!!!! What do you mean? I tried to climb the bastard but it threw me off!! That was the bark of the maple when I fell on my arse!! . . . How long ago was that? 6 Years ago! But your 40 now!! Aye and I still like climbing trees freehand, whats the problem with that?

So there is positive things about scars that we have rightfully earned! My tormentors left me with many emotional and internal ones, but lucky no one can see those, so no one asks!!

The most are on my hands trying to explain those ones, no one ever believes me! You need to look close to see them, like a grid shape! What caused those? Would you believe me if I told you it was fighting/wrestling 3 thigh thick Burmese Pythons?? Course you would'nt! Or one on my face which was a eternal love bite from a 8ft boa constrictor called Cody!

Its the bricks at the side of the head scars I don't like discussing, or the "bullet" shaped one on my right thigh, thanks to some DIY surgery! (Not self harming). So some scars can tell good stories, when people ask, and usually the bad ones can be avoided, as they are either looking at me in disbelief, or laughing! so distraction is a good thing, if you can find the positive ones. My self harming ones come from destructive behavior, but I did not intentionally cause them.

See Severe, your doing great, keep up with the positive!

Sven, I can relate to what you are saying, some things I am not ready to share! But my fear, in my body that I carry, terrifies me, albeit in total different circumstances,but again not my choice!
 
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Forgot to also mention to all, I need to apologize, I use humor to help heal, sometimes I may sound like I am being funny, but this can actually be a sign of the exact opposite. Laughter, it is the only thing I can use as a coping mechanism.

And Nothing Man, cheers, I have been wondering what the (((Sven))) or (((Nothing Man))) meant, did not want to ask. Now I realize it is a code for a hug? Well if it is (((Everyone Here))). It is much easier for me to do it verbally or on a keyboard!
 
Its a code for a hug, yes
 
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