“But rains pour down upon us, storm clouds darken the skies and we get lost in the storm. Have you been there? Wandering in the darkness, crying out only to be greeted with utter silence?"

~ Lesley Hitchens ~



"God puts rainbows in the clouds so that each of us in the dreariest and most dreaded moments can see a possibility of hope.”

~ Maya Angelou ~

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

The scars we wear

I'm going to start a several post series on this kind of topic. It's not where I thought I would go but I feel like the need is there..... Even for locals in this town. The posts will be very dark but the places of light in those posts will shine very bright among the dark. I think it's something that needs talked about.....


I've been told that my story shouldn't be told, that I just need to be quiet. I've been told that I tell too much in this blog. I've been encouraged that I should just cover up my scars so people won't ask. I've been told that I just need to see a shrink and deal with things that way. I've been told that sharing my story will get CPS called on me and more....



Why? If others showed me compassion and love instead of hate and condemnation, my life would be very different, yet my story would not be able to help others.

Is it any wonder people don't talk about their PAST? The scars we wear? It's all a matter of fear....



Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. ~ Khalil Gibran ~



I've even been told that because my son has two major head scars with more to come, that I should just encourage him to grow his hair out so his scars won't be seen. Scars shouldn't matter in that.... Really... Here's why.



Scars tell a story that needs told.... You never know what your scars will do for someone else.

"Every story had the same message: what was deep inside could only be deciphered by someone who understood how easily a heart could be broken."
― from "Faithful: A Novel"






Honestly my fear in doing the posts isn't sharing my story, it's the crap I'll get from family and possible locals..... Though being an outsider already, I don't think that will change much.....



Many thoughts were going through my head last night thinking about the past the present and the future thinking about where I've been the present and where am I going. Thinking about Shelby and her story wondering and thinking about my own life, about where my story will touch somebody else or change their life.


One thing I've not really had is unconditional love and real, true friends who either didn't flee at the first sign of a storm on the horizon, just forget about me or didn't stab me in the back with betrayal. I test everyone.... I have to... Saves from being betrayed. Almost nobody passes my test.

Something about that book Faithful has triggered something within me. What I don't know but something did. I don't know if it was how the story started, with Shelby locked up in a mental ward trapped within herself, the fact that one second in time changed her entire life, or that it took her over 10 years to finally be free again. I don't know what spawned me to read that Kindle book, as I had never heard of Alice Hoffman but I did... I finished it within two days.....




So....... Here goes nothing.....


.......










I'll start with a post I made recently... Just before I found that Hoffman book. Here are my not so beautiful thirty something year old legs....





These scars I have always been ashamed of. Always hid. Rarely let seen let alone told about. Many know my story, several know the name, few know the face. These scars tell the story of childhood depression, abuse, suffering. They tell the story of years of nobody listening to a child try to tell the truth. I was 8 when I was sent away the first time. I was 12 when most of these scars were self inflicted with a box cutter on two different occasions. It had not been my first but my legs were my worst. I really did want to die... I was nothing to anybody. I was destined to be a failure everyone said, a burden to society, destined to live in a psych ward or prison. I was better off dead...... Much of this wasn't from kids at school.... To them I was just a worthless nobody. Nobody knows of all the marks I had from pushpins and needles before and after the boxcutter was done till now. Nobody knew that I prayed to a god who I figured hated me like everyone else did, that I would just die in my sleep and be done with a world that hated me and who wanted nothing to do with me but to use and abuse me. Many nights before and after that happened, I prayed like that..... Nobody knew of those till now. I was sent away days later after using the box cutter the first time and put away for much longer after the second. Later I told how it was God that stopped me from slicing my wrists like I wanted, both times. It was my legs instead.... I was 15 when I was last in a group home. Quite a handful of residential treatment facilities, psych wards, group homes and a foster home all in that 7 years between 8-15. I will get more into the times away in another post. I was 19 when I really faced the trauma I survived.


I still have demons I face. My struggles now stem from rejection and being unloved by pretty much everyone...... To this day even.... I would rather be in control of the world around me than to let one more person "take the wheel" and screw up everything.... And that's another topic for later....


I had decided that since I had survived all that I did, I vowed at 18 that never again would I not be heard. Never again will I deal with being called a liar for the truth. Never again would anybody determine my destiny. Never again will I be silenced.


I may scream out In a world that drowns me out yet I know some hear my voice. I know my story has changed some. People wonder why I beat a dead horse over my blog posts. Because if I don't call out injustice, inequality and hypocrisy, who will?


So I have decided that for the first time, I will wear clothing this summer that shows my legs without worry, without apprehension, without fear. When people ask, I will tell. Why? Because I am not afraid of my scars. They have faded a lot in the 23 years since but they are still there. Not all are but the deepest ones I made remain on both legs.


 This post is for everyone who has struggled.... The next posts will be as well.




Many teens and even adults hurt themselves physically as a way to try and relieve the hurt that is taking over their lives. Cutting is behavior that stems from depression, which is a much deeper problem than the marks in your skin. Self-injury is considered to be an addiction, and it's not easy to just stop. Behaviors include, but are not limited to:

Cutting
Burning
Picking or interfering with wound healing
Infecting oneself
Punching/hitting self or objects
Inserting objects in to skin
Bruising or breaking bones and
Some forms of hair pulling








It's not only a stress relief but also a cry for someone to notice that something is wrong in their lives. A guy or girl who hurts themselves may feel empty, lonely, fearful, or is unable to express his or her feelings. The act may have been brought out because of past abuse or depression. Cutting is a result of a deeper issue within the heart.







If you are struggling with self-harm yourself, please find help in a trusted adult right now. Even though these actions may seem like they help, they could eventually develop into even greater struggles like addictions to drugs, alcohol, or even eating disorders, or worse..... In fact, you may be dealing with some of that right now. But, you don't have to suffer alone. You really don't...... Call the crisis hotline at least, where you will speak with someone anonymously.





If you know someone who cuts, have compassion, show them love, embrace them. (Ephesians 4:32). They are struggling and don't know how else to deal with their pain. Don't judge or condemn them. It's not their "fault" or something they're doing to hurt you. God wants to heal them, and you can help. Galatians 6:2 says to "bear one another's burdens." How can you love your friend and show them that they matter to you and to God?









Silence is the enemy of truth. That's how I see many things..... My scars tell a story and I will not be afraid to put a face, a name, even a label to that story. Not anymore. Because the more I can help bring them back from depression, despair, from suicide, the more I know my story is not in vain. The hardest thing to heal from isn't the physical wounds we leave on ourselves, it is the emotional and mental that not just others put on us but what we too put on ourselves....







The next few posts will be similar to this... Yet if you know someone who could use the words I shared here, please share.

Blessings!
~ Special Momma ~









"I see this woman who is really focused, very strong, and her heart is changing toward more love now, She is moving on in life but also trying to build other peoples' lives. She is doing something which she never thought she would do." ~ MoniCa Singh ~ Survived a brutal acid attack and is overcoming.

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