During my illness I self-harmed extensively on my arms. I'm deeply ashamed of those scars and come every summer I'd literally feel paralyzed by not having the courage to bare my arms. I ached to be able to wear a T-shirt or a strappy dress but couldn't for the fear of the stares and comments I'd receive. Instead, I'd be wearing long sleeved tops, absolutely baking in the heat and getting frustrated and angry at other people who didn't know how lucky they were to be able to enjoy the sun without being judged.
I was turned down for laser treatment because the scars were deep and the skin uneven - the probability of the treatment causing further scarring was high. I was devastated and got very down about the fact I would probably be wearing long sleeves for the rest of my life.
When I first met my partner I was terrified to tell him about my arms and kept them hidden from him for a long time. He knew about my mental health past and I think he eventually worked it out. I don't think my scars bother him - they are just a part of me.
A couple of summers ago my life changed forever. A close friend commented that I was well covered up on a particularly hot day. I told him my reasons for this, and he made it his mission to 'get me in to short sleeves'.
He asked to see my arms which made me very uncomfortable, but I showed him anyway. He told me they weren't that bad - yes the skin was uneven, but as the wounds had been inflicted over 5 years ago, they weren't as noticeable as I thought they were.
"But what if somebody takes offense?" I asked him. "That's their problem isn't it?" he replied.
With a lot of support and encouragement from him, I managed to break free and by the end of the summer I was wearing short sleeves and strappy dresses! I felt liberated - it was such an amazing feeling!
It wasn't easy and I started off small. Initially I sat out in my garden. Even though there was nobody else there I still felt very self-conscious. But it was so nice to feel the sun on my arms after such a long time..
After I got used to doing that I went for a walk around the block, my cardigan in my bag as a literal security blanket. I was so worried that each person who passed me would stare at my arms in disgust. But they didn't. They didn't even look at my arms. As time went on it got easier. I graduated on to busier places..the swimming pool, the bus, the local shops, the gym, the city center and finally in intimate gatherings where people were more likely to notice my arms. This was harder. This was around people I knew or sort of knew who weren't aware of my mental health past. Whenever I felt myself losing courage I'd keep in mind what my friend had told me "It's their problem.." and repeated it to myself 'til I felt better.
Of course, I did receive comments from time to time. I dreaded them. Usually an innocent, "What happened to your arms?" was met with a very awkward "Um, ah..erm..", before turning into a very aggressive "WHY?! What makes you think you've got the right to ask?!", before storming off in a rage, vowing never to bare my arms again.
I approached a self-harm specialist and asked how I could avoid getting wound up and aggressive when people commented, and what on earth could I give as an excuse for my scars?
Her answer was simple: Have three or four sets of standard answers that best suit the appropriate situation. I was very sceptical but at the same time amazed that I hadn't come up with it myself. It seemed so obvious!
I try not to wear short sleeves if I know I am going to be around children. I feel awkward about exposing a child to the horrors of self-harm. Sometimes I'm caught unprepared though. (If I know their parents very well, I'll ask if they have a problem with me wearing short sleeves, and how I should approach it if their children comment).
For very young children I say that I had a fight with a big cat at the zoo and the cat won. This usually works and I can distract attention by describing the cat etc. Older children don't buy this as much! I find the age group 8-12 the most difficult. They're not silly. They notice everything and are very inquisitive! Usually I'll just say that it is a big secret and that I'm not allowed to tell. This usually goes on to be a guessing game as to how I got the scars. The best answer being that I was "Just like Harry Potter" which made me laugh! One time a child had been particularly persistent and out of exasperation (and with the consent of his mother) I told him that it happened a long time ago when I was ill. He thought it was some kind of operation that I'd had, so all ended well.
If someone is genuine in their concern and reasonably well informed I'll just tell them the truth. The response to that so far has been good. For the deliberate troublemakers I'll say "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you..." smiling sweetly as I tell them. After that I'm often asked if I "Work for MI5 or something?" Further silence on my part convinces them even more..
Standard replies make things a lot simpler. Getting them out for the first time is very difficult but once you've said it once, it gets easier each time.
If you feel constrained by scars, but want to break free, it CAN be done. Just start small and gradually build things up. It isn't easy - the first time is the worst but it does become more natural as time goes on. I never thought that I'd ever have the courage to wear short sleeves, but I did it! Before the start of every summer I get a little apprehensive because I'm out of practice, but it doesn't take long for me to get back in to the swing of things again - I just do a little refresher of starting small and building up.
If you feel you just can't do it, there is a camouflage clinic formerly run by the Red Cross, but is now run by "Changing Faces". You can go through your GP. It wasn't suitable for me as my arms are very dry and the make-up wouldn't sit right on my skin. I prefer to not wear it anyway as it can be a bit time-consuming.
There is a certain vulnerability in exposing something that happened in a very dark period in my life but my scars are just part of who I am. I don't remember what my arms were like without them. They are just "there".
Wearing short sleeves doesn't bother me now. I don't even think twice about it.
I'm really thankful for the people who supported and encouraged me to be able to achieve this. If it wasn't for them, I'd still be dreading each summer as it comes along.
Kerry.
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