They seem like one more bodily detail to tend to without much benefit, and sometimes more detriment (breaking a nail or scratching oneself up, ouch!).
They seem like one more bodily detail to tend to without much benefit, and sometimes more detriment (breaking a nail or scratching oneself up, ouch!).
Day 16 with claws. Wrecked the bedsheets again tonight. My nose is constantly bleeding because I keep picking it in moments of relaxed forgetfulness. My butthole burns like I ate chilis because I still haven’t figured out how to wipe it - my family has learned to live with the smell while I keep practicing yoga to eventually be able to give it the cat treatment. Gwen still refuses to be touched after the incident last week… But even the desire to be caressed won’t convince me otherwise. This is me. I am a weapon to protect what I love. My body, my choice - and threats of divorce won’t get between me and my constitutional rights to protect my family.
Waved at a cop and got shot. I was wearing mittens at the time so this is mostly unrelated to the claws.