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This is me. Trying to feel comfortable with my stupid body.

I hear there are people who like this and want to see me. So this is it. Sorry if I offend or this wasn’t what you come to this blog for. Some people do some don’t.

Scars on my forearms are, I think, self harming scars? I have never had them diagnosed in that way. I have been told it is from my picking at wounds on my arms due to my anxiety disorder. And the wounds originally came from my stressing and scratching at my forearms. So if you wanted to know - and I have had a dermatologist look at them (which in itself was a weird story) and she said it wasn’t cancer and that it was from scratching and picking.

The gut is just from eating more than I need, obviously. That is also anxiety and depression related.

But I deserve love, don’t I? I deserve to be thought of as lovable, right?

Despite my physical flaws that some would use to tear me asunder for their gratification, I should feel desirable. That’s what therapists tell me anyway.

Maybe I look mean because I am trying to keep people from interacting with me. Maybe that draws people to me and it confuses me.

I am a hot mess of a person and I choose to be vulnerable now because it frees me from the weight of a facade I use to protect my psyche, ego, and mental well being. In truth I am probably the weakest person you’ve ever met.

I mean I get it.

But that hurts.

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