Beauty From Pain
Hi there. It's been a while, huh? Sorry for the months of silence. I've been struggling a lot mentally and spiritually. I felt like I wasn't at a place to write anything to you guys because I was so confused. I felt like I wasn't going to give you my best, so I took a little time off. I can't say that I've fully come back to the place I was when I started this blog again. And I probably won't be there for a while, but I do feel like I am at a place where I can start writing again. So, I wanted to share a little about what I did today.
Since I was in middle school, I have struggled with my self image. Like most teen girls, I wanted to be skinny and pretty and cool and popular. And I never felt as such. When I was a preteen I started a bad habit of picking at my skin. Whether it be a pimple, a scratch, a bug bite, etc. I would scratch and itch and pick until it bled. In a way, this was my coping mechanism. It was how I displayed self harm without picking up any sort of blade. Nobody ever truly questioned it.
Even when they called my wounds "bullet holes", it just made it worse. I was obsessive over it. Whenever I got anxious or depressed, it's what I turned to to calm me down. I tried to stop multiple times and even got close to beating it, but I'd always resort back to it when I was anxious or upset. Like I said...coping mechanism.
I even struggle to this day. And scars litter my entire body from it. Being Type 1 Diabetic doesn't help anything and has actually made it harder for some of my "wounds" to heal. It scars my body every time a new spot appears. And even though I am embarrassed as soon as someone says something about it, I can't help but think it's my fault to begin with.
Most of the time, I don't think about them, because they're just there and I've gotten used to them being there. It's only when someone blatantly points them out or when I want to wear a cute sundress or shorts that I begin to freak out over it all.
This morning, I took a look in the mirror and was immediately disgusted with myself for the scars in my skin. Then, I felt a voice in my head tell me to make something out of them...my scars. So, I took my paints and my brushes and went to work creating art from my past pain, and this is what came of it... (The paint 'spots' cover every scar exposed from the waist up. I have many more scars all over my body, but at this time I only felt comfortable with my arms, collar and face.)
Since I was in middle school, I have struggled with my self image. Like most teen girls, I wanted to be skinny and pretty and cool and popular. And I never felt as such. When I was a preteen I started a bad habit of picking at my skin. Whether it be a pimple, a scratch, a bug bite, etc. I would scratch and itch and pick until it bled. In a way, this was my coping mechanism. It was how I displayed self harm without picking up any sort of blade. Nobody ever truly questioned it.
Even when they called my wounds "bullet holes", it just made it worse. I was obsessive over it. Whenever I got anxious or depressed, it's what I turned to to calm me down. I tried to stop multiple times and even got close to beating it, but I'd always resort back to it when I was anxious or upset. Like I said...coping mechanism.
I even struggle to this day. And scars litter my entire body from it. Being Type 1 Diabetic doesn't help anything and has actually made it harder for some of my "wounds" to heal. It scars my body every time a new spot appears. And even though I am embarrassed as soon as someone says something about it, I can't help but think it's my fault to begin with.
Most of the time, I don't think about them, because they're just there and I've gotten used to them being there. It's only when someone blatantly points them out or when I want to wear a cute sundress or shorts that I begin to freak out over it all.
This morning, I took a look in the mirror and was immediately disgusted with myself for the scars in my skin. Then, I felt a voice in my head tell me to make something out of them...my scars. So, I took my paints and my brushes and went to work creating art from my past pain, and this is what came of it... (The paint 'spots' cover every scar exposed from the waist up. I have many more scars all over my body, but at this time I only felt comfortable with my arms, collar and face.)
I am in love with how these turned out. I cried the entire time making it and even afterwards. I've discovered a true strength within me and hopefully, I can continue to use that strength as I begin to heal from my past.
With eyes wide open,
Kaitlyn
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