Between 2 and 3 million people in the US alone self-injure.
This is her experience.
I just want to start out by telling you about the gift God has so graciously provided me: I have an awesome, incredible, beautiful, rambunctious three-year old named Libby. She is my everything. Her smile, laugh, voice, everything about her makes me wake up in the morning with a smile on my face. She is my best friend, my ally, my stepping stone to true happiness.
We were sitting on the couch watching TV, and she was holding my arm with her hand.
She asked, “What happened, Mama?” when she saw my scars. I was in shock. I quickly changed the subject because she has the attention span of, well, a three-year old.
But I couldn’t get it off my mind. I know if you’re my friend or have ever been around me, you must have seen them. They are pretty noticeable. I’ve never tried to hide them; there’s no point.
I started cutting myself for the first time when I was 18 and a senior in high school. I was in a bad spell. This was before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder or borderline personality disorder.
I lost almost 20 pounds in three weeks, I cut all my hair off, I spent hours locked up in my room, and I felt so… numb. Lost. Hurting so badly inside. I felt stupid that I was so upset and depressed. I thought I was crying for no reason, that I was being a dramatic girl.
So, I tried self-injury one night. It felt like a world full of black and white suddenly went colorful. I finally felt the pain on the outside that I was so desperately feeling on the inside.
I continued cutting.
It felt good and I loved doing it to myself, as narcissistic as that sounds. I didn’t do it for attention, necessarily. Maybe sub-consciously I did; I can’t really be sure. I didn’t do it to try and kill myself, either. It gave me reason for hurting. It gave me actual scars instead of the ones on my brain and on my heart. Real battle wounds instead of the ones I could only speak of. I used to hide in my closet for hours and self-injure a little at a time.
The closet is my safe haven in my brain. Whenever I’m super upset about something – when it’s really bad – I hide in my closest, most of the time with no lights on, and I cry. I try not to, but the reason I go to the closet is that is where I used to hide when my father would beat the hell out of my mom. I would go in there, ears plugged, eyes closed, and cry.
I stopped cutting after I found out I was pregnant with Libby. I didn’t do it for over three years, until July of this year.
I’d called my then-boyfriend one night, freaking out. I was so lost, in such a dark place, so afraid of myself. I collapsed mentally. He had to carry me out of the closet because I was shaking so hard.
I don’t know how to answer the question to Libs when she asks me again. Honestly, I’m afraid: I’m not supposed to be weak. I’m supposed to be her mom. Her protector. I’m supposed to be her knight in shining armor. How do you explain that to a child? I don’t want to lie to her, but I don’t want her to look at me differently when she’s finally old enough to understand.
Are they battle wounds or are they just a crazy girl’s self-inflicted scars?
I think it is important for children to know that we are not perfect, even as their parents. We all struggle with really big emotions and children could benefit from knowing that we feel them too and they are not alone. I am in the same boat, having had my 3 year old ask me. I told him something like “I wasn’t dealing with my emotions the right way but now I have help and I am getting better.” Again I think it’s okay for our children to know that life is a bit complicated and messy at times and that it is okay to be not okay, so long as they know how to ask for help. I wish you the best with your journey!
I don’t self-harm, I don’t have that pain. But, I do know that you are strong. Battle scars come in all shapes and sizes are yours are from the fight for your life, it doesn’t matter that they are self-inflicted. When she asks again, and she will, tell her they are scars from fighting for your life. That it was something you thought you had to do to stay alive. That you were hurting and it made you do dangerous things. Then tell her you want her to talk to you whenever she is hurting, in a dark place, upset, so that she never feels like this is something she needs to do. I’m so glad you’re here. Lots of love.
Love from Y B Normal.
Sending you love from my girl YBNormal.
I wish I had a solid answer for you, but I’ve never self-injured by cutting.
My suggestion is to be honest. Explain it like “those are from my childhood” for now until she gets a bit older.
Loves you.
I find that my kids appreciate and respect my honesty. Keep it age appropriate, but where it can evolve as her ability to understand does. She may never ask again, but she may need more as she gets older.
And everything that Stacey said.
I absolutely see them as battle wounds. This could be a start to an ongoing conversation about healthy ways to deal with big feelings, and how you will always be there to listen to her & help her no matter what.
I am so sorry that you didn’t have the support that you needed back then. I hope you will continue to reach out whenever you need to.
I don’t self harm, but reading this touched me in a profound way. I think your self awareness is amazing and I wish you so much good and love in your life.