I feel like such a damn baby. It's a #*%@ing NEEDLE. It's not going to kill me! But it's like every time I see one and know they want to use it on me or know that I need to get one used on me in the future, my mind just shuts down and go into panic mode. I've tried to stop it, and I can't. Not having any control over breaking down and crying like a baby over a freaking needle scares me.
I want to go get therapy for it (and my obsessive skin picking), but I'm not even sure it's worth it. My last experiences with shrinks were the suck, and I refuse to be drugged up again.
So yea. Blah.





