As my first official post, this has taken me quite a few days to come to terms with convincing myself this forum is safe enough to post upon. The first move I’ve made in the past year so, with guts and grim on the table, here we go…
My husband is a social butterfly in the ways for which I am not; in order to avoid our differences from becoming an issue, we have scheduled days we follow for when his friends come over and days for when it remains only him and myself. This also assists me in mentally preparing for the exhaustion of handling others and so I won’t find myself overwhelmed.
However, as my husband has his male friends, it seems (stereotypically) reasonable that it is within myself to comfort the girlfriends and make them feel “at home”.
This issue is - I carry deep scars that still have yet to heal entirely on my left forearm; They are large and the scar tissue is thick, but they are bulged from my skin so it looks like a branding wound. Last year in a fit of my episodes running rampant, I made the attempt at suicide and perhaps even thankfully, failed. I spent awhile hospitalized and under strict observation from my Psychiatrist. I am still under said observation.
In the last time spent that my husband had his friend over, his friend’s girlfriend tagged along and of all the women that overwhelm me, she is the worst. I had used the bathroom and opened the door as she stood outside of it talking about things I could never care of, where I pulled up my sleeve to wash my hands, not thinking of the scars on my arm when she spotted them almost immediately and began giving me a lecture that she could “just tell” that they were fresh and newly done. I had explained to her countless times over that they were done over a year ago, that I had done my time in hospitalization, medicated, the whole ordeal, but somehow - that must have made a liar in her mind as she refused to believe it.
It was with this that she went straight to my husband and began telling him how she knew my wounds were freshly healed as if I had just done it a week ago. When I entered the garage (our smoking area), my whole life story seemed to become the conversation of the party. I sat quietly as she and her boyfriend, along with my husband continued talking on … well, me.
Many others have refused to believe that they were done a year ago and in any explanation, they run immediately to my husband as if his story is going to say otherwise against me. Even when he tells them what I had said is truth, they give him a look of “I think you’re lying”. If I were a more violent person, the glare they give would make me want to punch them in the face.
I always wear long sleeve shirts and if not, I wear my Dark Funeral Jacket to cover them, but for those that have already seen my scars, I feel powerless in what I say - they never listen. I want to make my point firm and clear so every time I see these same friends, my past won’t be the subject of choice for their conversations. How could I ever ensure that?