Scratches from Soph

The first week of school was a success, I made it through all of my classes and I’m feeling good about things. I've been doing better and I've been taking care of myself. I am awaiting placement for therapy sessions and I recently got an emotional support animal (ESA). Her name is Sophie and she brightens my day. But Sophie has her back claws still and some days she is a little on edge than others and she likes to scratch me.

I used to cut myself as a way to deal with the ever-changing world around me. It was my escape, my safe place. It was what I went to when I couldn’t turn to anything or anyone else. I did it when I was happy, sad, depressed, anxious, frustrated. I would literally find any excuse I could to cut myself.

BUT I am almost 3 years self-harm free. I’ve had a few bumps and diversions along the path, but for 90% of the time, over the past three years, I have been self-harm free.

My problem is that Sophie scratches me and it brings back the memories of all the times I used to do it to myself. It feels like I’m being transported back in time and am standing there, watching myself do these things. Just standing there, screaming, “DON’T DO IT.” But I am silent. Younger Jules can’t hear me.

Sophie’s scratches become scabs and when I have any sort of scab, I HAVE to pick at it. There is no ifs, ands, or buts about it; I will pick at that scratch/cut/wound until it has scarred.

Continuing to pick at these scabs makes them more visible, at least that’s what I think. Most of the cuts are on my legs and when I wear shorts I feel very judged. It reminds me of the first time someone found out I was cutting. I feel ashamed, hurt, unloved, unwanted, looked down upon, crazy. I’ve been trying to keep my legs covered because I think that people just assume I am cutting myself again.

I shouldn’t have to explain myself to bystanders. I shouldn’t have to feel ashamed because of what I am wearing, or what is on my body.

I was in my first class on Monday, it was called, psychology of personality. I ended up dropping it, because of what happened and for other reasons. Here’s what happened:

        

We were all given a task to observe the physical appearances of our partner. We were paired in twos and I felt really uncomfortable, because after we observed, we had to share them with our partner. He started going through his list and he got to one, it said, “History of depression.”

I asked him why he thought that and he said, “I noticed your scars.” I felt uneasy at that point. I didn’t know what to respond so I just sort of said, “Oh okay.”

I never realized that that is the first thing someone sees when they look at me. I never thought it was THAT obvious. But apparently it is.

That was my past and it should stay in my past. I understand they are visual representations of my mental battle, but I’ve never had anyone look at me and verbalize that they see them.

I shouldn't have to explain myself to anyone. I shouldn't have to pretend like my past never happened. I shouldn't have to feel ashamed that I have scars. I have a lot of fucking scars and that apparently that scares people.