er, trigger warning for scars and brief mention of rather damaging coping mechanisms and mental illness/addictions and exams. oh man. there totally should be a trigger warning for exams.
extremely noisy photo. my apologies.
just… one of those days, when I look at the scar on the back of my hand - a tiny tiny member of all too many across my arms alone, ignoring the rest of them - it always throws me a bit, and then I realize how bony my little (carpal tunnel-ed) wrist looks, how fragile I am, how breakable still, and my gaze can’t help but settle on the fading blotchy-map-of-Japan scar that my parents created and wonder why the hell the least traumatic of my memories are the ones that scar worst.
Moody, sorry. Tired and unable to feel emotion at all, which is almost more frustrating now I’ve actually gotten used to not suppressing them. And I have an exam tomorrow morning. At eight. While a friend plans an intervention for a mutual friend with a terrifying addiction, and another tries to work out what to do with an even more worrying young friend.
…honestly? One thing I’m glad for is that I’m no longer tempted to go overdose on antipsychotics or sedatives or find a suitably sharp object any more.