Monday, March 26, 2018

Socks as protection

Being home I go bare-footed save that I re-started an old habit of picking the thick skin at the bottom of my paddle-feet---"These are the worst feet I have ever seen" said one podiatrist---likely because I stopped picking my face. I picked at both feet and drew blood. Because it feels weird to have different levels of skin thickness due the depth of my sole skin it is incredibly seductive to someone with OCPD to have a go at.

Solution; I am now wearings socks. If I pull a sock down to have at it my hope is logic Mikey will recognise what is happening and stop me. It also cushions my feet from the pain from walking on wound sites.

I have a plastic slinky to entwine around the picking hand's fingers to keep them occupied.

It's like I'm being run by committee, there's the sane faction and then there's the fuckwit because it seems to be sociological law that a committee will have at least one fuckwit on it. That's my experience at least and I confess it was often me because I gave a shit. 

My feet are covered and legs stretched. I've done all I've can. 

I hurt myself and it's not right. At least logic me is giving sick me less chance to self-maim.

There is comfort in that; that I am doing my best when able to look out for future me.

WFTW.

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