Share your scars

[AndyC]

He was on crutches for at least a couple of months. Took the skin right off his feet. You know what it's like when you rip open a blister? Everything from the ankles down was like that, and perhaps a bit worse, since the layer beneath would have been damaged too. He was out of school for probably three weeks to a month.

It didn't melt his shoes or socks that I'm aware of, but they did soak up a lot of hot oil and keep it next to his skin.

Surprisingly, I don't think there was much permanent scarring. At least, nothing I noticed in later years. I should call him up and ask him about it. I haven't spoken to the guy in about five years.

[Raffine]

Anybody remember those big 32 oz. glass Coke bottles? They came in a plastic six pack.

I was loading some into my mom's truck at the grocery store when one bumped the latch. It and the surrounding bottles exploded in a hellstorm of broken glass and fizzy Coke. I still have scars on my forearms where several pieces of glass embedded themselves.

[Umaril The Unfeathered]

Anybody remember those big 32 oz. glass Coke bottles? They came in a plastic six pack.

I was loading some into my mom's truck at the grocery store when one bumped the latch. It and the surrounding bottles exploded in a hellstorm of broken glass and fizzy Coke. I still have scars on my forearms where several pieces of glass embedded themselves.

I remember those things...I never had an accident myself, but I do remember being at the A&P with my mom when I was around 6 years old, and seeing the same thing happen to a lady who hastily put two huge soda bottles into her cart, dropping one on the other.

The resulting BOOM! and the blast startled me, as well as seeing the blood that was all over the lady's arms from getting cut. Those things were dangerous.

[Killer Bees]

Mine are many and all are internal:

Abandoned almost after birth by my biological parents who treated me as a piece of unwanted garbage. I would love to meet them again some day in order to make them suffer the way I have. Their treatment of me and the hatred I have for them is the machine that drives me daily.

Adopted by a childless couple who kept me grounded for years and my mom still does.

Lived through a bloody civil war.

Raped and mentally and verbally abused in a boarding school at the age of 16.

Result: one seriously messed up human being. But I cope and have coped for these many years and God willing, I'll continue to cope.  

Trevor, my internal scars are nowhere near as awful as yours and I'm sorry for your pain.  I too was abused physically, emotionally and mentally by my stepfather and to a large extent by my mother until I left home at 18.  He never touched me other than to beat me so I was spared any sexual abuse by him, thank God.

I was frequently sexually assaulted by one of stepdad's friend's when I was about 14.  I would baby sit this couple's six month old son which I enjoyed but the dad would come into the baby's room and put his hand up my skirt and fondle me rather forcefully. I was quite naive but I was never stupid but I wondered why he seemed to enjoy it so much.  Because of the repressive violent homelife I had, it never occurred to me to say no.  The sick thing was, I thought he was doing it because he really liked me.  He was the only man who touched me in a way that didn't physically hurt me.

I never told my parents about this.  In fact, nobody knows this except anyone who is reading this post and at least I have anonimity on my side.  Besides, my stepfather would have blamed me for leading his friends on.

But you grow up and you learn to deal and you live through the pain and embarrassment and feeling of helplessness and hopefully you find some measure of peace and joy in your life.  And if you're really lucky and eat all your vegetables you find a man who truly loves you and respects you and supports you and life becomes something wonderful and special.

I did and I thank whatever God is up there that he came into my life.

[Umaril The Unfeathered]

That really sucks....my turn, I guess.

First off, my love and some hugs to Trevor and Killer Bees for their experiences too. 

I myself, had an alcoholic father, and my grandfather, (husband of my maternal grandmother) was also the same, but worse. 

My dad's abuse was mostly verbal, but my grandfather  was a physical abuser first class.  I won't go into some of the things he did (too long a list) but some of the stuff he did to my mom, uncle and my grandmother were real winners too. Stuff I really don't want to repeat. 

I will give you one though:   One time when I was 7, I accidentally got sand on the seat of my grandfather's truck when we came home from the beach. I got the metal buckle end of a strap to my leg, and was grabbed by the hair and dragged back and forth from the truck to the garbage can as I was forced to clean the sand up with a broom and dustpan.

That is, until my grandmother came out and went to town on him with a broomhandle and my mom called the police. It was that incident that was the blow to their marriage. My grams and gramps divorced shortly after.

Some short years later, as an early teen, my father got worse and then I had him to deal with. 

Not to mention my grandmother marrying another alcoholic over the guilt she felt for not being able to help my grandfather. She got this one clean and sober, but for years we (and I) had to put up with is his abuse too on top of my father. And to show his gratitude for my grandmother getting him sober, he cheated on her until her dying day in 2001.

It was our greatest pleasure to throw the SOB out on his ear when my uncle got the house after my grandmother's passing. 

There's alot more I could go on about with my father during that time up and until my mom's divorce in 1980 and my grandmother's passing in 2001, but it's too long to list.

Like a lot of you who had the same experiences, I had to find my own way and accept the fact that I had to pick up the pieces of a childhood that was partially denied, as I was forced to grow up and deal with things while only being a boy in a man's world.

[macabre]

hi
First let me say that one of the things that i admire about all you guys and ladies on this site is the Honesty and Sincerity that you have for one another.I am amazed at how upfront some of you are with your personal details,afterall the only contact you guys have is through this site and yet all of you are more than willing to open up your hearts.I  truly do salute you all for the input you give via this site,
I have a few small scars made mostly by my wife when she was going through her bleak period.
Once again i salute you guys for your integrity and honesty and i look forward to more in this coming year.

[RCMerchant]

Mine are many and all are internal:

Abandoned almost after birth by my biological parents who treated me as a piece of unwanted garbage. I would love to meet them again some day in order to make them suffer the way I have. Their treatment of me and the hatred I have for them is the machine that drives me daily.

Adopted by a childless couple who kept me grounded for years and my mom still does.
Lived through a bloody civil war.

Raped and mentally and verbally abused in a boarding school at the age of 16.

Result: one seriously messed up human being. But I cope and have coped for these many years and God willing, I'll continue to cope.  

Trevor, my internal scars are nowhere near as awful as yours and I'm sorry for your pain.  I too was abused physically, emotionally and mentally by my stepfather and to a large extent by my mother until I left home at 18.  He never touched me other than to beat me so I was spared any sexual abuse by him, thank God.

I was frequently sexually assaulted by one of stepdad's friend's when I was about 14.  I would baby sit this couple's six month old son which I enjoyed but the dad would come into the baby's room and put his hand up my skirt and fondle me rather forcefully. I was quite naive but I was never stupid but I wondered why he seemed to enjoy it so much.  Because of the repressive violent homelife I had, it never occurred to me to say no.  The sick thing was, I thought he was doing it because he really liked me.  He was the only man who touched me in a way that didn't physically hurt me.

I never told my parents about this.  In fact, nobody knows this except anyone who is reading this post and at least I have anonimity on my side.  Besides, my stepfather would have blamed me for leading his friends on.

But you grow up and you learn to deal and you live through the pain and embarrassment and feeling of helplessness and hopefully you find some measure of peace and joy in your life.  And if you're really lucky and eat all your vegetables you find a man who truly loves you and respects you and supports you and life becomes something wonderful and special.

I did and I thank whatever God is up there that he came into my life.

Bless you and Tervor. I too was beat as a kid. My Dad didnt use the belt-he used the buckle. He beat my Ma so bad -me and my brothers would hide under the bed-downstairs we would her screaming-Ma screaming-Dad beating the s**t out of her. We would get up when dad left-and Ma would have her eyes swollen shut-her mouth bleeding-he knocked out her front teeth-holes in the walls-we would gather around Ma and hug her and cry. Dad was a basterd. He punched me so hard in the face when I was 12 that I was knocked out. He threw my sister Brenda down a flight of stairs leading into the basement. I hated him. I know it was nowhere as bad as you guys went threw-but I can identify. Again-You both turned out to be beautiful people-and-again-God bless you.

[HappyGilmore]

So, never stand behind a metal door when your boss is p**sed off at his coked-out ex girlfriend and decides to start running around smashing stuff as a result of an argument they had.  Cause then he'll slam said door on your head, causing your glasses (I no longer wear them) to smash up into your face and the door cracks your nose.  I now have a slight scar on my eye area as a result of the ER visit and the stitches I got.

Also, I've been assaulted many, many times, and have a few scars and what not as a result.

Not to mention the severe emotional scars I bear on a consistent basis that I refuse to go into right now.

[Leah]

ehh, had a jumping jack firework pack blow up in my hand.

[100Nights]

I think my best scar story is from my senior prom
it was at a museum, where there are this wide stairway that descends down the front (union terminal if you're near SW ohio)
I have this habit of jumping the stairs or 3 at a time. I mean just leaping off of them and then landing, i dont land anything more than 3 or 4 feet down.
We were leaving prom, and I of course have to go bounding down the steps. what I fail to take into account is that I am wearing leather bottomed shoes.
The ones that were provided with my tux. so when i go to land, my feet don't stick right so my whole weight has too much momentum and i topple forward.
i rip open the side of my left knee (the scar is probably 6" tall and 4" wide), i destroy the pants of my tux.
My date is aghast, but it is my friend and his date who come to help me.
they had given us these champagne flutes with a candle in them as our prom gift and so that was in several pieces in my hand.
so i have to return the tux pants torn covered in blood. I signed the damage waiver so I owed them jack. which was awesome.

[Trevor]

I was frequently sexually assaulted by one of stepdad's friend's when I was about 14.  I would baby sit this couple's six month old son which I enjoyed but the dad would come into the baby's room and put his hand up my skirt and fondle me rather forcefully. I was quite naive but I was never stupid but I wondered why he seemed to enjoy it so much.  Because of the repressive violent homelife I had, it never occurred to me to say no.  The sick thing was, I thought he was doing it because he really liked me.  He was the only man who touched me in a way that didn't physically hurt me.
I never told my parents about this.  In fact, nobody knows this except anyone who is reading this post and at least I have anonimity on my side.  Besides, my stepfather would have blamed me for leading his friends on.

Damnit, that is beyond sad, KillerBees. 

If I ever come to where you are, please (a) let me give you a hug and (b) please point me in the direction of the bastard that did that to you: I will carve the word PAEDOPHILE on his forehead with a rusty knife. 

But you grow up and you learn to deal and you live through the pain and embarrassment and feeling of helplessness and hopefully you find some measure of peace and joy in your life.  And if you're really lucky and eat all your vegetables you find a man who truly loves you and respects you and supports you and life becomes something wonderful and special. I did and I thank whatever God is up there that he came into my life.

Please do me one more favour: go over to your man and give him a big hug from me. When he asks what that was for, tell him that you have this friend in South Africa who asked me to do that for you. 

[Killer Bees]

I was frequently sexually assaulted by one of stepdad's friend's when I was about 14.  I would baby sit this couple's six month old son which I enjoyed but the dad would come into the baby's room and put his hand up my skirt and fondle me rather forcefully. I was quite naive but I was never stupid but I wondered why he seemed to enjoy it so much.  Because of the repressive violent homelife I had, it never occurred to me to say no.  The sick thing was, I thought he was doing it because he really liked me.  He was the only man who touched me in a way that didn't physically hurt me.
I never told my parents about this.  In fact, nobody knows this except anyone who is reading this post and at least I have anonimity on my side.  Besides, my stepfather would have blamed me for leading his friends on.

Damnit, that is beyond sad, KillerBees. 

If I ever come to where you are, please (a) let me give you a hug and (b) please point me in the direction of the bastard that did that to you: I will carve the word PAEDOPHILE on his forehead with a rusty knife. 

But you grow up and you learn to deal and you live through the pain and embarrassment and feeling of helplessness and hopefully you find some measure of peace and joy in your life.  And if you're really lucky and eat all your vegetables you find a man who truly loves you and respects you and supports you and life becomes something wonderful and special. I did and I thank whatever God is up there that he came into my life.

Please do me one more favour: go over to your man and give him a big hug from me. When he asks what that was for, tell him that you have this friend in South Africa who asked me to do that for you. 

Thanks Trevor, I will tell my wonderful partner what you said.  He is very surprised that I don't hold any grudges or have any baggage dragging behind me.  I did for a many years but a lot of spiritual reading helped me through it.  I tell him that I don't begrudge having any of these experiences because it's made me the person who I am and after many years of being overweight with depression and self loathing, I actually now like the person I am today.

I take my hat off to everyone who's been through s**tty things in their lives.   I know that my experiences were nowhere near as bad as some people's so I count my blessings every day.

Even now it still amazes me how rotten people can be.

[Trevor]

First off, my love and some hugs to Trevor and Killer Bees for their experiences too. 

Right back at you.  

I will give you one though:   One time when I was 7, I accidentally got sand on the seat of my grandfather's truck when we came home from the beach. I got the metal buckle end of a strap to my leg, and was grabbed by the hair and dragged back and forth from the truck to the garbage can as I was forced to clean the sand up with a broom and dustpan. That is, until my grandmother came out and went to town on him with a broomhandle and my mom called the police. It was that incident that was the blow to their marriage. My grams and gramps divorced shortly after.

Some short years later, as an early teen, my father got worse and then I had him to deal with.  Not to mention my grandmother marrying another alcoholic over the guilt she felt for not being able to help my grandfather. She got this one clean and sober, but for years we (and I) had to put up with is his abuse too on top of my father. And to show his gratitude for my grandmother getting him sober, he cheated on her until her dying day in 2001. It was our greatest pleasure to throw the SOB out on his ear when my uncle got the house after my grandmother's passing. 

I would have personally thrown the SOB out on his f****** head for doing that to you.  

Like a lot of you who had the same experiences, I had to find my own way and accept the fact that I had to pick up the pieces of a childhood that was partially denied, as I was forced to grow up and deal with things while only being a boy in a man's world.

The abuse I suffered made me who I am today: someone who gets by in life but just gets by, nothing more than that. I am a broken person but my friends here, my family and especially the young ones in my life are the glue that holds me together. For that, thank you and  

[Trevor]

Bless you and Tervor. I too was beat as a kid. My Dad didnt use the belt-he used the buckle. He beat my Ma so bad -me and my brothers would hide under the bed-downstairs we would her screaming-Ma screaming-Dad beating the s**t out of her. We would get up when dad left-and Ma would have her eyes swollen shut-her mouth bleeding-he knocked out her front teeth-holes in the walls-we would gather around Ma and hug her and cry. Dad was a basterd. He punched me so hard in the face when I was 12 that I was knocked out. He threw my sister Brenda down a flight of stairs leading into the basement. I hated him. I know it was nowhere as bad as you guys went threw-but I can identify. Again-You both turned out to be beautiful people-and-again-God bless you.

Oh, hell, Ronnie: that is awful to read. Put me in a room with that guy, give me a cricket bat and I will use his f******* head for a ball. 

[Trevor]

I tell him that I don't begrudge having any of these experiences because it's made me the person who I am and after many years of being overweight with depression and self loathing, I actually now like the person I am today.

I actually don't like the person I see in the mirror just yet ~ and I haven't for many years ~ but I am getting there.

Even now it still amazes me how rotten people can be.

Those are unfortunately very true words indeed.