Day #8: Share a scar.
First of all, I’m a day late, sorry about that. Yesterday was hectic. I went to the ENT and had to run errands and pick up prescriptions, and then I went up to the mountains again with my dad for several hours, so I didn’t get a chance to do this one, so you’ll get this one and today’s today. 😀
I don’t know if it means a scar literally or figuratively. I’m going to share an actual, physical scar that I have.
This scar is from the first time I cut deeper then superficially on my arm. It scared me. I should have gotten stitches, but I was afraid to go and tell someone what I’d done. I remember lying to my boss about it, when she saw it. I said I had caught it on a nail in my garage. I have no Idea whether she believed me. Probably not since I had a bunch of other self-harm scars on my arm.
For the longest time, I hated this scar. I thought it was huge and ugly. Well, it kind of still is, but I’ve come to accept it as part of my story. Part of my me, who I am, and where I’ve been. It’s a sign of strength. In that moment I could have given up. I was really struggling, but instead I found a way to cope. It may not have been a healthy way, but it kept me alive, and it kept me going, and it did its job until I could find better ways to cope. And I’m still here, still fighting, learning more and more how to thrive instead of just survive. I’m proud of that moment of strength when I chose not to give up.