The Mental Fatigue of Living With Keloid Scars
Living with keloid scars isn’t just physical.
A lot of it is mental.
And over time, that part can be just as tiring.
Scar management doesn’t happen once. It’s ongoing. It’s checking, waiting, adjusting, and hoping you’re doing enough, without really knowing if it’s working yet.
That constant effort adds up.
The quiet, ongoing effort
Most of the work happens in your head.
You think about timelines.
You remind yourself to be patient.
You tell yourself not to expect results too soon.
Then you do it again the next day.
There are long stretches where nothing seems to change. During those periods, it can feel like you’re putting energy into something that isn’t giving anything back. That’s when the fatigue really sets in.
Always being aware of them
Even when you’re not actively doing anything for your scars, they’re still there.
You notice them in mirrors.
In photos.
In certain lighting.
In certain clothes.
Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s not.
There are moments where I catch myself wondering how visible they are to other people, even when no one has said anything. That kind of awareness is draining, especially when it becomes automatic.
It’s not just in your head
When I started reading more about the psychological side of scarring, a lot of it felt uncomfortably familiar.
Studies consistently show that people with visible scars experience higher levels of anxiety, low mood, body image issues, and social withdrawal. Research from Swansea University found significantly higher rates of anxiety and depression among people with visible scarring compared to the general population.
Seeing that didn’t make me feel worse. It made me feel less alone.
It helped me realize that this mental load isn’t a personal failing. It’s a common response to living with a visible difference in a world that places a lot of weight on appearance.
Anticipation is exhausting
A lot of the fatigue doesn’t come from comments or reactions.
It comes from anticipation.
From thinking about whether someone will stare.
From choosing clothes carefully.
From deciding when to explain — and when not to.
Even when nothing happens, the mental preparation still costs energy.
Over time, it’s easy to internalize expectations about how you’re “supposed” to look, even if you don’t agree with them. That constant self-monitoring wears you down.
Slow progress takes a toll
Keloids don’t change quickly.
Healing is slow, uneven, and often subtle. You might not notice anything day to day, even if something is happening underneath the surface.
I’ve had periods where I felt discouraged not because things were getting worse, but because they weren’t getting better fast enough. Waiting months for small improvements requires more patience than most people realize.
That waiting is tiring.
What’s helped me cope
I haven’t found a way to make this easy.
What has helped is being realistic. I don’t expect visible improvement in weeks. I usually tell myself I won’t see meaningful changes for at least a few months, and that real healing can take six to twelve months.
That doesn’t eliminate frustration, but it reduces the constant disappointment.
I’ve also learned that it’s okay to take mental breaks — days where I don’t check as closely, don’t compare, and don’t analyze every detail.
A final thought
If managing keloid scars feels mentally exhausting at times, that makes sense.
You’re dealing with something that takes time, patience, and consistency — often without clear feedback or reassurance. That kind of ongoing effort is hard, even when you’re doing everything “right.”
This isn’t about fixing anything or finding the perfect mindset. It’s just an acknowledgment that the mental fatigue is real, and that you’re not imagining it.
Want to read more?
I also wrote about the first steps to take when you think a new keloid scar is forming, and how to stay calm.
Read the blog post here.👈