I’m not sure how to say this.
Where to begin, how much to share.
Or perhaps what flack I’ll get for this. [flack, disbelief, pick an adjective]
Sat. March 1st, is Self Injury Awareness Day.
I got an idea, about 4 to 6 months ago. The idea will probably sound really stupid to at least some of you. I’m going to wear a homemade bracelet. Made of band aides. Real band aides. I’ve been practicing an old drawing I did a few years ago. 147:3 drawn in the shape of a heart. Why?
“He heals the broken hearted,
and binds up their wounds”
It can pretty much be said that there is broken hearted-ness at the core of self-injury. I first heard of self-injury through To Write LoveOn Her Arms [twloha]. I’m not sure if I can “come up with some cool way of putting them on this” or not. I’m hoping to. Some “unique font” that is “all me”. I’m not raising money, or asking for anything. I just know a few people who self injure. I know that you know [/know of] at least one person who has self-injured. I know, because you’ve heard of me. You’re reading this. So, if no one else comes to mind… I have. I didn’t really know that’s what it’s called. I called it “one of the bizarre things about myself that, if you knew it, you would think I’m stranger than you already thought I was”. When I heard of twloha, I thought they were awesome [I STILL think they’re awesome, btw]. I just couldn’t imagine that someone would cut themselves on purpose. Do you have ANY idea how many times I’ve had cuts on me? All I can say is, if I had all the stitches here in front of me, I could probably make a regulation baseball out of them. I decided to read a book on self-injury…I didn’t get very far into the book when I came to a frightening discovery. Cutting is the most common form of self-injury. As in. Not. The. Only. One. Some other forms of self-injury include: biting, wound interference, hair pulling, banging self against walls [sometimes to the point of breaking bones]… So there it was. My strangeness in print. I bite my lip. Sometimes I pick at it. I pick at my skin. [summer usually isn’t as bad as winter] I pick at [interfere with the healing of] my wounds. I began to write 147:3 on the band aides. [after reading Psalm 147:3 one day] I’d leave them on longer. So I would have something “non self destructive” to pick at. This seemed to help. I don’t do too bad anymore.
Though in all honesty, the band aides were the starting point. I journal, write poetry, take hikes [of varying lengths], & I’m never very far from my camera. These also have helped. This blog began as a chance to bleed out my sorrows healthily. A lot of my writing seems to be like going to confession. Or perhaps an AA meeting. [not that I’ve been. So keep that in mind. For those who have & think I’m wrong] I feel bad that it seems like I have these deep, sharing ugliness with you blog posts. Somehow sandwiched in between poems & lighter posts. I just wanted to say this. For those who might see me wearing it, it’s easier to state why here. Than to have someone come up to me & ask “out of the blue” what it’s for. So this is my answer.
I need to wrap this up for now. Even though I feel like I’m leaving you hanging. I have an earlier than usual day tomorrow. [my long drive day for work]
May His grace drip from your fingers,B