Not that long ago my soul was weary from relational conflict. I needed to let go so I did. It didn't make the process of letting go any easier or the sadness of letting go any less painful but in the end it was the wisest decision to make.
On the heals of that came the process of saying good-bye to self injury behavior. It started with hair pulling when I was a little girl. It stayed that way all through my thirty's. When I started self-injuring using sharp objects it felt good because I could point to what hurt. In my mid to late forty's is when I was able to stop all self injury behavior. There are times I wish I could still use it but those are fleeting thoughts - not ones that last.
I have enough scars - inside my soul and outside on my body. I have many of them in my memory and others on my arms, shoulders and other places. Some of them were inflicted by my Dad or other adults and some were inflicted by me. All of the scars tell a story about a time in my life that was painful - a time I'd just as well forget.
I'm so glad to have my God, family, friends and therapist. My scars cannot be seen by them. Thankfully, I'm the only one who knows where they are.
They help me keep a straight line on the narrow path. Not on a perfect path and certainly not on a path that is dangerous to my recovery. I guess you could say it's a well-balanced path that rewards good choices and gives good correction for bad choices.
Self-injury is not a game nor is it an attention getter. It's an embarrassment in front of others. It's not funny when I'm doing it, either.
Pay attention if you know someone who is self-injuring.
Their cry for help is bleeding on their body.
