breathe me.

btw, my physio appointment this morning.. it was actually the most awkward 30 minutes of my life, i’m not even exaggerating.
i get in there and the first thing she does is tell me to take my top off. luckily i had put a decent sized bandaid on my arm, but like, by “bandaid” i mean this thing was probably the size of my iphone.. i put it on the arm that she would be looking at for my bung shoulder. the first thing she does is ask me what happened to my arm.. i made up some ridiculous story about how my tiny apartment has a really poky bathroom with lots of sharp cupboard handles and stuff.. i’m such a bad liar. like truly awful.. but she didn’t say anything else about it but then when she had me lying on my back and she extended my arm out which meant she could then see the three scars on my forearm and the bandaid on my wrist she pulled such a weird face like it was a mixture of concern, confusion and just what the fuck is this girl doing. but she didn’t say anything.
but then, when she was showing me exercises to do for my shoulder, she had me on my back again, keeping in mind i still don’t have a top on, and she had me put both arms above my head.. i hadn’t put anything over the other arm, i had figured i didn’t need to.. and like, it’s mostly healed but you can still see that there was definitely something there that was a lot more than just me accidentally scratching myself on sharp handles or whatever my first shocking excuse was.. and she gave me another funny look and i could tell she was trying so hard not to say anything..
the whole thing was just awful and i just wanted to scream and run out of there and curl up somewhere and cry and ugh it was just awful.
ugh.