I had stopped for a little while-- about two and a half weeks or so, I'm not big on counting. My T had really gotten through to me. He is the first person to have gotten through to me. He is the first person to not be afraid. When I started again he asked me roll up my sleeve and leave it rolled up so that I would feel ashamed or disgusting in front of him. He wanted me to know that he accepts all parts of me, no matter what. However, I am disappointed in myself because in the back of my mind I know that he did get through to me-- I am just not strong enough to accept that I might be ready to stop. A tiny part of me feels like I disappointed him as well. I have eight on the inside of my arm right now.