‘A few more scars won’t hurt’ *TRIGGERING IMAGES*

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED. CONTAINS IMAGES OF SELF HARM.

The mantra used by most self harmers which couldn’t be further from the truth.

How do your scars affect your daily life? I try to use mine to show other self harmers what NOT to do. For a long while, I would hide them, struggling in the heat with long sleeves, but now they extend past my wrists and on to my hands, well there is no point hiding. Anyway, people shoul accept me as I am, perhaps I should feel proud that I made it through, bearing in mind at the time of making most of the scars I didn’t think I would be around to wear them.

(Just adding a nice picture of a flower so the following pictures don’t show up extra large on my reader and trigger someone)

So, if you have been following my blog, you will have read about the recent incidents I have had with cutting my hand. Here are the pictures from the first time around:

And then this was from the following week when I had my big ‘blip’ and ended up making one of the cuts bigger;

And my hand now;

Now let me just put a question out there. Why do I have these photographs? What is it about self harm that makes me want to capture it, which blood dripping down dramatically? Does this mean I am still self harming for attention? Or am I doing it to prove I really do have something wrong with me. This is serious – take notice of me! I wish I knew the reasons because as much as I feel addicted to self harm, I wish I could wipe the slate clean, with clean, fresh arms. That said, it would probably just be a blank canvas for me to repeat my self-mutilation artwork.

Take Care. x

 

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One comment

  1. Mandi · · Reply

    I’ve always taken pictures too. I’m not sure why. Partly as proof I think. I hope someday I won’t look at it with a wish to do it again. Instead maybe as a badge, making it through the fire so to speak. I always thought it was just for attention and I hated myself for that. But I don’t think that’s what it is. I think it’s a way to release pain, and some part of me hopes that someone will notice, and maybe care or understand. Which may be considered attention, but to me it’s not the same.

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