Mid-July with fresh cuts on your arm, equals long sleeve shirts and a lot of good excuses about why you do not feel hot in 90 degrees. You would think after 14 years I would remember to cut another body part that is covered up in the summer. Or maybe you'd just think by now I'd have my life together and this wouldn't be a damn problem.
They don't bother me look wise. I think they are pretty. They have something to say. I just hate when people notice them and feel awkward. I don't find this habit that big of a deal. It is much safer than drinking your feelings away or prescription pills or taking up smoking or drugs or having sex with most men you meet. That's what a high percentage of people with my past end up doing. A little cut here or there is not going to kill me or keep me from having a good job or being a good mother or contributing to society. I'm doing the best I can. And hey, I could be doing a lot worse.
But no body sees that.
8:51 p.m. - 2015-07-08
Recent entries:
too many times - 2016-03-24
Dance - 2015-11-05
Me - 2015-10-29
mountain dog - 2015-10-24
Roman turns 4 - 2015-10-17
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others: