I was trying to move a bookshelf with the questionable help of a 15-year-old.

He let go (he was at the top) without warning while I was still about 4 steps from the ground floor.

I’m sub 120, so this thing just launched me like a pinball down the stairs and into the living room. The scar came from losing my grip on the shelf as it launched me backwards. It ran straight across my wrist and left a wide, shallow scar that looks like the bad thoughts finally won.

I landed on my feet like a cat. Every time I wear short sleeves people look at it just a little too long, but no one has ever asked.

I have two scars from scratching and picking at scabs back when I had chicken pox as a kid. They are about the size of a .22 round and are perfectly lined up on either side of my arm that I have bullshitted people into believing I was shot once.

I have a vertical scar across my eyebrow where hair doesn’t grow. It’s not anywhere as noticeable as, say, Benn Jordan’s, but it’s pretty evident up close.

The cool story behind it is that I hit myself in the face with a car door.

This thread is asking you to associate your anonymous profile with your self-identifying scars. Tread carefully.

This Frankenstein-like doozy’s from the surgery to rebuild a destroyed condyle after getting run down by a car in a crosswalk while I was cycling home from work. Last thing I saw in the headlight glare as the guy ran the red-light at speed was the shadow of a head popping up from the wheel. My assumption is the asshole was on his phone. Hit and run of course.

The impact also broke my pelvis, snapped my left femur, broke my left tibia and fibula into 7 major pieces and a lot more smaller bits. It’s the right thigh’s condyle at the knee that still poses the most problems though—there’s rather a lot of scar tissue I’m still working on as I try to get full range of motion back into it. The knee’s got about 19 pins and screws and a plate pulling the bone confetti back together. Four bolts through the pelvis, two rods running the length of the left leg, upper and lower, along with stabilizing screws at either end of each rod makes about 36 titanium implants overall.

Was in a wheelchair from January to March of 2024, then a walker until May, then used a cane until September. Was back on the rebuilt bike in December and spent the past year riding semi-regularly, even making jaunts up to 60 miles. Been a long, long, slog.

I have some surgery scars on my left ankle from when I was 10, and they were later reopened when I was 16. What happened was I was at a kids holiday camp, and we had a snow day. I went sledding down a cliff, hit a rock, and broke my tibia and fibula. For a few years we thought it healed fine, then I went on an unusually tough 3 day tramp (that’s another story, but it was bad enough that one of the people got bad hypothermia and we nearly had search and rescue called on us). During that tramp my ankle started flaring up again, and when we got it checked out, it turned out my growth plate had fused my foot was growing sideways. So that meant another big surgery, a bone graft, and 6 months on crutches.

Well, I do have a missing molar serving as an example of why you don’t take up a national-level light weight boxing champion on the offer of an unsupervised bare-knuckle spar in a backyard ‘just for fun’.

No, I don’t want to talk about the follies of my youth, but thanks for asking.

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My roommate had a butterfly knife in his room and I wanted to play with it. I was drunk and my hands were greasy from eating KFC.

It slipped (more like threw it at the ground) due to incompetence and impairment and greasy KFC hands. I didn’t want it to get mashed on the ground so I used my lighting fast reflexes to catch a knife I just threw. Point first. Into my palm. My greasy drunk palm.

Cleaned up the evidence as best I could. Put it back. Should 100% have gone to get it stitched up, but didn’t, and ended up with some nerve damage and scar tissue crowding some tendons.

I haven’t really retold this story in a long time. As I’m typing this…

My neighbor’s cat scratched my collarbone with her back foot, but I didn’t mind, she had let me carry her across our yard together

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I have a shiny spot on the back of my left wrist from roller blading and landing wrong on the pavement. 30 years later you can’t hardly tell.

About the same time in life I got really good roller blades and tried going down this really big grassy hill. My old blades were barely functional, so I hit the bottom at probably 10-12 miles per hour and tripped into the street. I lost half of three teeth. The bonded parts are clearly visible.

Also, when I was four one of the teenagers in my apartment complex thought it was fun for me to run up his body holding his hands and have me do a flip. He went to put me on his shoulders and I… did a flip. You can still feel a bit of a cavity on the back of my head where my skull fractured.

As a child, I missed with a potato peeler, and my left thumb is permanently marred with a mild scar

I know you lot have better stories though