I remember when my brothers loved to play with me. But, when they didn't, I was sad because I had to play by myself. For the longest time, they never wanted to include me, and then there was a time when they were begging for me to play with them.
But now, it's like the don't even know me...
They barely remember what we did...
I should scratch myself a lot less. My parents keep thinking I'm just breaking out a lot......................................
but it's a habit, and I don't usually notice when I'm doing it until it's too late.
I feel better digging my fingers into something, though. But, what good is it to do this? It doesn't help, but it somehow does, even though it ultimately makes it worse.