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Self harm validation: chasing a high you'll never reach
Hi everyone. I've seen a lot of posts on another platform talking about wanting to self harm worse to feel like their pain/wounds are valid. I wanted to share something I feel is important about my story in relation to feeling valid.
I'm 23. I started self harming 8 years ago. I used to cut to the dermis and the fat level. Two years ago I had a big breakdown because of my job and I walked out. I went home and relapsed and ended up going to the hospital to get stitches. No one was home thankfully so I took an uber. I texted my boyfriend's mom in a panic because I was scared.
I was supposed to be staying clean. I thought that if I could just cut one last time, deep enough that I needed/should get stitches, I would finally feel valid and I would finally be able to stop. I thought this would be the release I needed from self harm to set myself free. I was wrong. And I always knew it. That's not how self harm works. But I'd like to explain because I want other people to get this realization sooner than I did.
I did cut to fat. I can't personally tell if it was worse than what I used to do. I'm pretty desensitized at this point. But it was bleeding a lot and I went to the ER. For a second, just a tiny fleeting second, I felt valid. When I got there, the nurse told me the cuts were superficial and didn't need stitches. And then that validation all came crashing down. I just felt stupid for going and wasting their time when I was fine. Except I wasn't fine and when the doctor came in and said he was going to stitch me up, I told him what the nurse said. He said, "is she the doctor or am I? You need stirches" and that was that.
But do you see how quickly that validation came and was taken away? And not only that, but the whole experience was terrifying. They wouldn't let me leave and I was so anxious, I thought I would be hospitalized. I know now that they legally couldn't keep me (the social worker told me this) but at the time I thought they could. The two seconds of validation (in reality, maybe 5 minutes at MOST) was NOT worth it. It was not worth the anxiety, the fear, the worries that I would be judged. It wasn't worth the pain. And it wasn't worth hurting myself over.
On top of that, a year later I relapsed again and the people around me pretty much forced me to go to the ER. So not only did cutting deeper not give me validation or help me stop self harming, but I was back in the same boat a little less than a year later (not to minimize the almost year I spent clean, because I tried hard). This is when I started to realize it would only be a never ending cycle if I kept telling myself that I needed "just one more time" or to cut "just a little deeper" to get the validation I needed.
That validation you're looking for? It doesn't exist. It never will. It will always be "just a little deeper" and one day you'll wake up and realize it's been years and nothing's changed and you don't feel even a tiny bit of that validation you were seeking. You're chasing a high you'll never get. And when you finally come to terms with that, it's terrifying. Because you've locked yourself in a cycle that eventually will be incredibly hard to get out of the older you get. You'll feel like it's impossible. You'll think you can't do it. You can. You're strong enough. But that's not how it feels.
My stomach is covered in more scars now. Even with stitches some of them healed pretty wide and big. They were extremely noticeable for a long time. I can't wear shirts that show even a little bit of my stomach out of anxiety. I'm extremely self conscious when I have sex with my bf and it affects my enjoyment because I just worry about what he sees and if he secretly thinks I look disgusting with all these scars. The majority of my scars on my entire body have turned white, but you can still see them. Maybe not from far away, but I've had people tell me they're still noticeable. And what matters more than that is the fact that I can see each and every one.
Some of them I can still connect to memories and the time period/why I did it. I can never forget this. Sure, I can stay clean and move on and learn to live with my scars. I'm trying. But they will always be a reminder of the debilitating pain I went through- the years of undiagnosed (therefore no help) depression, anxiety, all my insecurities and trauma. Every time I look at my scars I'm reminded by the pure hatred I felt for myself for years, how I felt (and still do) so disgusting that I starved myself and purged and developed an eating disorder that will affect me for the rest of my life. I don't want these reminders scarred on me forever. But they are.
And I know you might be thinking that what I'm saying isn't relevent to you because you like the scars and you want them. I get that, believe me. I'm still scared to let them go. It's still hard to watch them fade and I've been clean for a little over a year. And when I was a teenager, I didn't care enough about what it would be like in the future to have these scars. I figured I'd deal with it when I was older. And to be honest, I thought that it would never get this bad and I never thought I would cut in places that would be difficult to hide. But 8 years later I have scars on both arms, my stomach, my thighs, my hip, and though they healed and didn't leave a lasting scar, I cut on other places too like my ankles and calves. One time, years ago, I counted the amount of scars I had. It was over 100. This may not seem like a lot when you factor in that some were not deep or big. But that's 100 individual times that I sliced my own skin apart because I was hurting. And the depth of your cuts doesn't matter. What matters is all the times you felt the need to hurt yourself no matter how deep they were.
I finally am in a long term relationship with someone I love more than anything in the entire world who is an amazing person and partner. But it makes me sad to think that when I get married, I'll have scars on my arms. These scars will be in my wedding photos. When I give birth, my scars will be there when my boyfriend takes a picture of my baby and I. When I have sex or engage in intimate moments with my boyfriend, my scars are there on display. It's not a good feeling to wear your heart on your sleeve literally. One close look at me and you can tell I'm messed up. I don't want that, but it's too late now. All I can do is try to move forward. It's hard. I'm not 100% there yet. I still feel embarrassed and sad and ashamed. But the first step is to admit that chasing after an unattainable validation won't get you anywhere except six feet in the ground. Please, learn from my mistakes. It's not too late.
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