My Body; A Broken Temple

 I find it truly fascinating how psychological trauma can manifest itself in physical symptoms. How something that damaged the development of my personality can lead to chronic pain, muscle spasms, convulsions, and soreness. Sometimes I find myself questioning whether this is truly all in my head, if the things people did to me as a child were something more than what I am currently able to remember. Because I struggle to believe that the things I went through could truly result in something like this. How could a bunch of kids doing those things later cause me to develop massive issues with my muscles and joints? But then I have to remind myself that all this questioning is nothing more than a result of poor and very lacking education on the way psychological trauma works, how it alters your brain, and how your body will carry that damage within itself until the day your heart ceases to beat. 

Sometimes, though, even psychological trauma can become physically visible on your body. Every time I go outside with a short-sleeved shirt, I know people around me are going to take notice of my arms and immediately know what is wrong with me. The scars on my arms are a reflection of my mental illness, a physical realization of my trauma; a concrete example of "trauma gets stored in the body". Because you can quite literally see it from the outside that I am, in fact, traumatized. Because no one else would do this much damage to their skin out of free will. 

trauma in the body.

The way that people react to seeing my scars in the public is not always the most pleasant, obviously. I think I've learned to handle that pretty well though, and I'm kind of proud of myself for that. If someone looks at me and grimaces or has a judging look in their eyes, I know that it says more about them than about me. It also says more about the society we live in and its inherent ableism that is so deeply ingrained into the social norms. Any kind of illnesses, especially when they are visible, are disgusting, and people get grossed out by seeing them. And me having a body that has had to sustain so much damage because of the abuse I was put through is not something to be disgusted by. There is a very simple solution to the problem, actually.

If you don't like what you're seeing, just look away. Life isn't A Clockwork Orange.

Thankfully.

Shamelessly,

ichigonya