I want to tell you about things. [Possibly triggering: SH]

But my urges and my anxiety are almost overwhelming me right now.

I just had a shower.
I did what I was supposed to do, I followed the sort-of routine we discussed.

Showering with no time-pressure meant that I noticed my scars. Specifically the ones on my upper arms. They're so ugly. They're that deep-purple colour that scars that are struggling to heal go. And they're . . . not new. Not old old, but longer ago than when I had stitches by at least a couple of weeks, maybe as much as a month.

The scar from the cut that got stitched is paler than the scars on my upper arms.

Nobody will ever want to look at my arms. Or touch them.

Part of me feels like maybe I should just destroy them then, but I know that's my exhaustion talking. I got taught the word derange this week. Lack of sleep can derange people. Apparently right now I'm somewhat deranged, can you dig it?

I am both excited about everything that's coming up and exhausted to the point of wanting to seriously damage myself.

I'm sorry. I'll stop ranting about my issues. I'm sure my regular readers have better things to do.