I hide them from other people but not myself. I stroke them and ponder them and try to get an answer from them. My body takes a fair amount of abuse from me. If my body is willing to take the abuse from me then I have to be willing to acknowlege the affect of that abuse. I heap love onto the places that I have hurt because those places willingly took abuse to save my life and save my mind. I slather oil on them and gently wash them and try to make them ok. I cry over them not for me but in appology for what my body has taken in service of my soul. I don't know, I guess I figure if I am ever going to stop this I have to look at it straight on and see what it is I am doing.
Carrie

<font color=green>Not knowing when the dawn will come, I open every door.--Emily Dickenson