That scar looks small. Keep in mind that it is on my forearm and takes up a good amount of the width. Also keep in mind that it is twelve years old.
I did that. It was all on me. I was helping a friend with vaccinations on a farm. I know nothing about farming.
They warned me that one vaccination was oil based. If you were to get poked by the needle, you could need medical attention if your body rejected the oil.
I stuck myself with the needle. To my surprise, nothing happened. So the next day I pinched the area and hit it repeatedly. I did this hard enough that I made it swollen. I continued to do this until it was as swollen as a golf ball and bright red. I then drove to the hospital.
My arm was lanced and cleaned out. They did not want to stitch it shut. It needed to remain open so any remaining vaccine could exit.
I continued to keep the wound open and prevented it from healing by rubbing objects in it. I used objects known to be dirty, such as coins, hoping for an infection. I would roll them in my open wound. As it started to heal, I pressed harder, ignoring the pain, to reopen the wound. I am ashamed to say that I tried rubbing animal feces in the wound to see if that would cause an infection.
It never became infected. Eventually I had to let it heal.
I do not know why I did this nor do I know why I kept worsening the injury. I kept wanting to let it heal, then suddenly I would be pressing another penny into the wound or pulling the edges of the wound apart, without even thinking about it. Once I have an existing injury, it has almost become habit to worsen it without thought. Afterwards I sit in shame and try to figure out why I just behaved the way I did.
I probably should not be admitting this so soon in my blog, but I want you to see what I have done in my past and what I am capable of. If I am not honest, there is no point in admitting to my illness.