ADSactly Personal - Tell Me Your Scar Stories (And I'll Share Mine)
Tell Me Your Scar Stories (And I'll Share Mine)
Well, today I thought I would share a few funny and interesting tales about my scars.
SCAR STORY 1: THE SORRY SEESAW
I got my first scar at the tender age of 5. I can actually remember it when it happened.
It was on my brother's birthday, which happened to be Good Friday, that year too and as a treat, my father had taken us to the park.
Seesaws are not like seesaws in the park these days, today they have teeny weeny springs that allow a slight bounce.
This seesaw had full movement that meant that when my brother powered off the ground with his legs, my backside went way off the seat on the other end, being four years younger than him I was significantly lighter.
We played 'bumps' every time went to the park, but this time I did something different.
I let go.
And off I flew.
Landed, brushed myself off, thought everything was okay, then I wiped my chin and discovered there was blood, a lot of blood.
The wails then fast ensued.
I got taken to the local hospital and remember asking the nurse as she applied paper stitches to my chin "Am I going to die?" at least five times and she assured me I wouldn't, at least not right then and because of a small wound to my chin.
SCAR STORY 2: THE WOMEN SHOULD AVOID TOOLS SCAR
My second scar is my permanent reminder of visiting Sarajevo. I was 18 and for some reason, I cannot remember, we were in a field on the outskirts of the town, I think it a family friend, we were visiting and I was bored. I didn't know much of the language, so was left to my own devices.
I found this broken axe and decided to try and mend it...
I wanted to get rid of all the broken wood around the axe head, so that a new piece of wood could be put in it, so I found a chisel and started trying to get the wood out like that.
I got quite far with it but then got distracted, by some pretty butterfly probably, and I slipped with the chisel and sliced open my right forefinger.
I put it under the water for a while, but that was just not helping, other than washing blood down the sink, so in the car, going back into Sarajevo I held my finger up outside the window to elevate it and that finally stopped the bleeding. I guess it was lucky it was the forefinger and not the middle one.
Eventually, it healed as an ugly scar, but I have never picked up a chisel since.
SCAR STORY 3: A SHOCKING SCAR
It was Christmas, we were around the in-laws and they were just doing up their pantry, which is where we would all disappear to have a smoke.
They warned us to be careful as the light switch cover was not yet attached and there was a live wire showing (can you see where this is going?)
So I was in there alone smoking a cigarette (a habit I've kicked now)and absentmindedly went to turn the light off and of course put my finger on the live wire, next thing I knew I was in a pile of boxes on the other side of the room, feeling a little frazzled hehe.
I think I must have screamed, as everyone came rushing in to see if I was okay.
I was okay. It was just a bit of a shock! And a small deep burn hole in my finger. (At least no blood this time.)
But now a nice white dot of a scar accompanies the other one mentioned above on my right forefinger.
SCAR STORY 4: SOMBRE SCARS
Of course, not all scars can be seen. A lot of us carry emotional scars from traumatic experiences, bad memories, or flashbacks we cannot shake.
Sometimes they affect the way you live your life, restrict you from fulfilling your potential. I have just come out of a 14-year relationship that ate away at the little confidence I did have. Sometimes when I least expect it a tirade of verbal abuse in his voice will invade my brain, a memory now, but a common occurrence, until the beginning of 2017.
I'm no angel and I'm sure he has tirades of nagging that he can't shake, but together we managed to restrict each other from being the best versions of ourselves as we brought out worst in each other.
We will carry those emotional scars always, as we had a significant part of our lives together and have children. In my case, they have made me stronger.
With all scars (physical and mental), it is important to remember that it is them that makes us more unique and beautiful.
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I think that scars are a fascinating subject and I could listen for hours to someone that has some scar stories to tell, so I will very much look forward to hearing your scar stories in the comments.
These scars and stories belong to @hopehuggs
Images are from Pixabay
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My parents break up is the biggest scar i have had to live with. I always felt like i don't have a place...always felt like i don't fit in.I spent too much time in my childhood wondering how things changed so much for us after the break up that i did not realize that time was passing by.
I woke up one morning and it dawned on me that while my family imploded and covered my face, life had gone by outside the shores of my home.
Friends had grown and moved on, cousins had gotten married and had kids etc. And i felt like i just couldn't fit in anywhere.
Today, i am a working class girl who earns some good money... a lot of people call me pretty and a lot of guys just want me by all means. I smile and try to mix up with every one but deep down i feel like i am just a spectator..like i really don't fit.
I Am slowing getting over it with a lot of effort...cos i don't want my husband and kids to have a scarred me....so I am working to reduce the effect of the scar.
But I still wonder how i would have turned out or how my life would have turned out if my parents had never divorced.
You've been through a lot emotionally but after a long time it seems like your slowly getting better and better. All the best to you and your family.
Thank you . I am stronger, wiser and better.
Hello dodiexcel. Wow, that is so deep. When I was young a family moved in next door. They had two boys who were more or less the same age group as me and my siblings. We played hockey together. Time passed. Their parents go divorced. I moved out and on. But, I have heard of the boys since. I think the oldest was negatively affected and never got over his parents divorce. Love is so deep and the pool so rich. I am glad you have a family and comprehend the importance of maintaining the innocence, solidarity, and love for your children. Yes, your life would have been different if your parents had not divorced. But, you would not have had this family you have now. Because of your scars, you give them the incredible gift of your love everyday.
That's true. loving them every day almost makes the scars shrink and get smaller. thank you and keep steeming it.
I can really understand this, my parents got divorced when I was 5 and I felt like I never fitted in. The sad thing is I have gone and done the same thing to my kids, but it was a better option than staying together. I hope that I can show my girls they always have a place.
I am sure you will show them that....because you have learnt from experience. Your girls will love you more for it. all the best.
I've only ever had one scar, and it's not a particularly interesting story. I got it as a young boy, and while I'd love to say that I got it from horsing around as young boys are wont to do, the actual story is far less interesting.
Specifically, I was tasked one evening with taking out the trash. While taking the trashback out, the top of some metal can tore through the bag and bit into my leg, leaving a large bleeding gash. I of course had no idea what to do accept for one simple idea: you need to clean any open wound. So I immediately drew a bath.
So here I was, sitting in the bath for about a hour trying to wash this cut out and wondering why I was still bleeding. I finally decided I should probably tell my parents what happened, starting with my poor mother who I damn near gave a heart attack when I showed her the wound. My parents dressed and bandaged the wound since it was too long after to really go in for stitches, resulting in the only visible scar I have.
Not a great story, but a story nonetheless.
It is a great story, thank you so much for sharing.
I'm glad I could. Not exactly a chestnut I get to reveal that much.
Huh, at least they didn't see the bathtub, full of bloody water, with you in it ;)
Why do you think my mom freaked out so bad? I was sitting in the tub for like a hour and called out to them from there.
Oh, fair enough.
after about 6 months of arguing with my ex-wife about whether I would join the army or navy, I was wanting to go ito the Army and she wanted me to join the Navy and the day that I finally agreed to join the Navy I grabbed my skateboard, went to the skatepark and probably broke my kneecap into 3pieces. I now have about a ten inch Scar down my leg over my knee cap and pieces of broken metal from the surgery 20 years ago. That is my wonderful first story. when I was 34 just before my 35th birthday I had Diverticulitis and my colon ruptured and now I have another 10 inch Scar straight up my belly from my pelvic bone to about 2 inches past my belly button and another three and scar on the left side of my belly from when I had a colostomy bag for 5 months. TaDa! moral of the story never agreed to join the Navy, and don't eat wheat... I did however find out that I was born with one kidney
My greatest scar was marked under my eyebrow when I was 11 years old, I remember the moment as clear as crystal...
I was getting into stunt scooters and skateboarding and so were my friends, so we often went out and just rode around our food some tricks. One day, we were out and there was a rather steep ramp so we were instantly tempted to do some tricks. We stacked our three skateboards on top of each other sideways and challenged each other to go down the ramp with our scooters and jump over the 1.5metre high wall of skateboards. I volunteered first so I went down the ramp with my heart beating and successfully cleared the obstacle. I loved the thrill so I went down another time. This time however, my back wheel clipped on the wall and I fell head first. I was unconscious for a few minutes but when I woke up, I found my friends calling my parents, who promptly arrived and took me to A&E. I had a huge gash through my eyebrow and I had 32 stitches.
I still have a rather noticeable scar through my eyebrow now, reminding me of the event.
Please wear helmets everybody!
I shared my eyebrow scar story below but I did not share how it happened. Mine was not quite as exciting or adventurous as yours. I was around the same age you were to. A friend of the family who was a few years younger than me had my coconut head bank and I was chasing her around the kitchen with it. Next thing you know I fell and hit my head onto the metal legs of one of the kitchen chairs. I think I was laughing when I got up until I was escorted to the bathroom and I saw the blood. My dad took me to the hospital and stayed with me, despite the nurses wanting him to leave. It is still a cherished memory of him over 40 years later and 15 years after his passing.
Reading through these stories, I'm beginning to be convinced that some scars are meant to happen.
I am going to show this story to my 6 year old who always requests no helmet when she goes out skateboarding or scootering (I am there too at the moment, she is not by herself. )
I appreciate your great stories. Scars appear to be a theme tonight is the posts I've read as I am just coming off work where the scars are all types. Anyhow, I had an eight year relationship. She left me. It hurt. But, now I am married 18 years with children and it is wonderful. Scars are a fascinating. I have so many that I feel blessed. I love the gold repairs because that's how it is, isn't it? My family scars are emotional. But, there are many physical. For example, when I was around 10, we lived on an island. And used the boats. And there are tides. Many of you know this but.. We had a dingy on an outhaul. That is a dock with a rope and pulley system tied to a buoy to an anchor. At high tide the water was up to the dock. At low tide, the rocks with periwinkles were about 12 feet below. As it happened, one day I pulled and pulled on the rope. But, seaweed was caught in the pulley. So, the rope broke and over I went. I did not even realize it. The fall hurt. I have had a few since but this was the first. A guy found me. I think people carried me home. The cuts from the rocks and periwinkles last for I do not know how long. And the girl of my young dreams visited me. She showed tenderness and caring at our young age. Somehow as long as we live there can be healing and something greater after the scars.
Love this <3
Thank you Hope Huggs for your positive response.
When i was still in Primary school, my mother who was teacher, made sure that i never strayed too far from our home. I had all sorts of activities to keep me busy; siestas, homework, home lessons, etc. I hated it. So anytime, she was not around, i played with my friends to my heart's content.
On this day, i had returned from school and she was yet to return from work. My friends invited me and my cousin, who lived with us then, to a game of mopo. It is sort of like tag but you become It if the ball touches you. If you are It, you have to try to hit the other players with the ball, at the same time, each player, holding batons and bats try to get the ball as far as possible away from you. it was an interesting game.
One of the rules of the game was that the player with the ball could not move from the spot where he or she picked the ball. Unfortunately for me that fateful day, the boy with the ball broke the rule and chased after me. I ran, trying to avoid being hit by the ball.
One of my neighbors had a stack of roofing sheets on his sewage tank and i, feeling as dexterous as a mountain goat, decided to jump over it, instead of running around it.
I jumped successfully and landed on the other side. I continued running until a friend screamed 'blood'. I looked down and behold my flesh was puckered like pouty lips below my left knee. I had felt nothing before but as soon as i saw the injury, the pain hit and i burst into tears. I was not crying because i was injured, i was crying because the injury had gotten me into trouble with my mom.
My mom came home to find me on the chair with my leg raised up and a roll of tissue paper seating on it like a cap. She didn't scold me that day,neither did my father but the tetanus injection was enough to clear my head. I still have the scar of that injury below my knee till date. That is my scar story.
I can understand completely the feeling of not wanting to get into trouble with your mom. Great story, thank you for sharing.
God bless you.
This one came from working on a plastic molding machine a few years ago. This was a burn from getting too close to the injector screw.
I also broke my arm at the wrist and they had to move my carpel tunnel nerve to put a plate in. Pictures are available but not recommended viewing. So I attached the less graphic version. This I got from chasing my parents dogs away from the road and I fell on my wrist.
Then there are the 20 other scars I have...
That is a whole series of post content. Wow, definitely no chasing animals it would seem ad no getting to close to your work. Thanks for sharing.
WOW Great post!
saçma sapan yazılara neden bu kadar ödül verilir ki ?
You got a 8.70% upvote from @minnowvotes thanks to @misrori!
The story is not personal. It is for all.
yup...
I've burned myself working mcdonald's numerous times! Every had a fry basket tattoo?
I think if I worked in Maconalds, or any fast food restaurant my hands and arms would be covered in scars. I'm bad enough taking things in and out my own oven!
A fry basket tattoo? You'd always have a place to play noughts and crosses.