Going through some of my stuff from my recent hospitalization. Found this and thought I'd share, maybe it'll give some comfort to someone else.

Stripes - by Fox August 16, 2010

It is said a picture is worth a thousand words. As I look at my arms I'm instantly transported to another place, another time. Fresh marks reveal years of unresolved grief. The whispers and shouting become unbearable. The others who share this space in my head, each with their own story . . . we don't always get along; in fact, we rarely get along. However, we need to start working together.

These self-inflicted wounds, how I hate them. I'll never understand how anyone could mutilate their own body. Haven't we been punished enough? The harder I try, the harder we fall. I'm not giving up. Someday we'll succeed. Albert Einstein failed many times, nobody calls him a failure. Yet, I find myself paralyzed by fear itself. One day I'll fall and won't have the strength to get to pull myself up. What then? May that never happen.

So here we are, working through triggers, stressors, and internalized emotions nobody can see or feel. We wallow in self pity, but now we need to come out of our hole and move forward. I need to look at my arms and not see failure anymore. They are the pictures illustrating my struggles for comfort, safety, and acceptance. One day the evidence will fade and I will be strong again. The memories will be there but perhaps the sting of the past will have left with my scars.

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It's been three months now that we're in December and my scars are still pretty red. But hopefully they won't be permanent. Now when I look at them I feel shame and guilt but I hope that I continue on my journey in life and follow a path to happiness and freedom. SI is not that road, that's the road that leads to more pain and misery. Even if my scars are permanent maybe one day they'll serve as a reminder of that road that led to destruction.