History of a hurting soul

Some things in life are difficult - if not, impossible - to explain to other people. In what follows, you, dear reader, will be witness of one of those things. As I wrote in an earlier post, May is the Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness month, and as June is approaching really fast, I wanted to dedicate one more post to a topic that has something to do with borderline, a topic that is still a very, very big taboo, even in so-called "free" countries, which have freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of sexual inclination, freedom of you-name-it. 

I appreciate the reactions on my earlier post because for years it has been very difficult for me to talk about this subject, even in general. In what follows, I'll talk about the biggest taboo considering borderline, namely the so-called "self-punishment" which can eventually end in suicide. There isn't necessarily a link between the fact that some people hurt themselves and suicide, but for people with borderline, these two are sometimes intertwined. However, I belong to the group of people who cut (simple past, not present!) themselves in order to stay alive and to cope with the difficulties of this life...

Here in the Netherlands the weather has been extremely nice since a week or two - that is, until today. That means that there are people burnt by the sun practically everywhere after a day out on the beach or in a park. That also means that people are walking around with few clothing. And there already raises a big problem for me. I can't walk around like that, not because I wouldn't like to - I mean, with more than 25 degrees Centigrade everyone would like to walk around in shorts and a sleeveless shirt - but because I feel embarrassed. See, the problem is that I have these scars... on my legs, but especially on my arms. And I can tell you from my own experience that these scars can scare the hell out of people. I've seen looks of horror, fear and incomprehension or even a cocktail of these three. That's why I prefer to walk around dressed in long trousers and a shirt or sweater with long sleeves. But when it's hot - like it's been during the past two weeks - I allow myself to walk around in short sleeves and three-quarter trousers. However, there are exceptions, the most important one being walking around at the university. You will never see me in short sleeves in class, I feel ashamed and I'm extremely fearful of the reactions of my fellow students and teachers. 

I started cutting myself 12 years ago, when I was 17, but I've already been "clean" for over 3 years. That's a great achievement, but it's not easy. Sometimes I have this temptation... "Just once more, just for this one difficult moment..." However, I don't do it, because I know from personal experience that it's so difficult to go back from cutting to no more cutting at all. But there is more. My two nieces - 4 and 7 years old - ask me questions about the scars: "Auntie, where did you get these? What are they?" What should I tell these two beautiful princesses who apparently seem to love me? I can't tell them the truth, not yet, they're too young. So I tell them I got involved in a serious accident when I was younger...

It all started quite innocently: I only drew lines on my arms with a pencil, but after a little while I changed over to scissors. Later on, I used knives and pieces of broken glass. I only realised that it was serious when I admitted it to a teacher at my secondary school and he was shocked and said that it was an anomaly. That was exactly the word he used: "anomaly". Only later did I find out that it has in fact a name: automutilation or self injury. But until then, I had never seen it on TV or from somebody else. It really was my personal strategy of survival, because the pain I felt deep inside was so powerful that I couldn't cope with it in a normal way. 


I've made some pictures of my own mutilated arms, but I'm not going to put those on my blog. Still, I want you to watch the next video carefully, especially when the video is at 2.39. (WARNING: not for sensitive persons!) I also carved a word in my left arm once (GUILT), and if you are aware of that, you can make out some of the letters that are still visible as scars.

You may think now that talking about this subject is easy for me, because I think I've been quite open until now. That is far from the truth, however. It's not easy at all. I've been writing and rewriting this post for hours, and I'm still not happy with the result. I've changed the title a dozen times. It's important for me that I explain this well, because every day is a new confrontation with my mutilated body. Every day I have to accept that I did irreversible things to myself. I've thougt about having an operation a few times, but I know that there is a slight possibility that I will start over when I have "new", unaffected arms and legs. Doesn't make sense? Well, think of this: every scar tells a story, every scar is the result of something that happened in the past. You can't completely erase your past, because your past is a part of you. 

I'm thankful to God that He has helped me to stop this habit. I'm also thankful that He has brought me in contact with the people from the church. Last Monday was the first day I went short-sleeved, and NOBODY, not a single person, looked at me with eyes full of horror or fear, not a single person made a rude remark or whatsoever. They all seemed to accept me the way I am, and honestly, that felt awesome. Never before has a group of persons reacted so wisely when they were confronted with my scars.


Don't judge people by their appearance. Just don't judge people in general. You never know how beautiful they can be on the inside... 

The orange ribbon stands for self-injury awareness. Be aware that about 5% of the Dutch population between 17 and 25 years old has hurt him- or herself at least once. I couldn't find exact numbers, it's still an estimated amount of people, but I do know that it is much more common for women to injure themselves than for men. Men prefer drugs or alcohol abuse while women prefer self injury. Help us by not judging us. We are not insane, we do - or in my case, did - this in order to survive. 


PS: I'm writing my Master's thesis at the moment, so I have to focus on what I'll do after I've finished my studies. I'd like to be a Spanish teacher, preferably at a bilingual or international school. However, I don't see myself as a full-time teacher. I'd like to help people who are going through the same as I have been through and sometimes still go through. I'd like to work part-time as a 'hands-on' expert. I'd like to visit schools to bring awareness among youngsters. It's important that the taboo disappears and that people learn healthier ways of dealing with painful and strong emotions. I hope I can be part of a team that helps to do away with the taboo on self injury. It's so important to be understood properly, I know what I'm talking about. It took me years, and I know that I'm not the only one. Self injury is probably a bigger problem than you might think. Be aware that we are very good at hiding our injuries and our real emotions. Support us. Don't judge us.