Adelaide

I’ve been doing better, I guess. I mean, I haven’t ended up with a huge glaring scab in the middle of my face for quite some time. I’m just worried that I’ve perfected it into an art. Because… I haven’t really stopped, and I haven’t really reduced the amount of time I spend on this by that much. I just do it… differently, less damagingly, maybe. It can’t be healthy. OK, it’s embarrassing to actually write it, but here goes… Instead of squeezing like I used to, I now pick using a needle. I wish I was as embarrassed while doing it as I am admitting it. I mean, I know there are other people who’ve done it that way. But I really just need to stop altogether. And I hope writing entries about it will help me stop. It seemed to help before anyway.

If they keep this up, they’re gonna hear from me. I don’t care about hurting anyone’s feelings anymore. It’s enough.
I count too, don’t I? Sometimes I worry too much about keeping everyone else happy and I forget that I need to look out for myself too. No one else will.
Plus now I’ve gathered all my thoughts and I know exactly what I’m going to say. I know exactly what is bothering me and why. And so will they if they keep at it, which I’m sure they will.
At least one of them will be offended, maybe even cry. But I don’t care. That person needs to learn to deal with it. I’ve dealt with enough coming from their end.

Best thing. EVER.