You read your body like braille

[anacaughtme]

You remember this.

You do.

Don’t pretend you don’t. Don’t pretend it didn’t happen.

It’s happened dozens of times. Hundreds.

You wake up. Maybe you wake up on the floor (you passed out, don’t you remember?). Maybe you wake up in middle of the night, gasping. Maybe it’s morning, your alarm went off, and it’s your first thought.

Either way, you need to check. You need to know. Anxiety bites at the edges of your mind. Are my bones there? Your frantic hands move quickly, static, and they cling onto the bones at your collar. Cling like it’s all you have. After all, they're your security blanket. They comfort you.

You stroke them.

Your bones are still there. You breathe a sigh of relief, your anxiety subsides and you shut your eyes.

You check again, just to be certain, as you make your way out of bed to the bathroom, where you weigh yourself and let the scale determine your self-esteem.