-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero, this blog is PinkyGuerrero, ongoing continuation at blogs Pinky & Janika & Basically Clueless & PinkFeldspar, in that order.
-Most of the graphics and vids click to sources.
-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
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Sunday, February 5, 2017

compliquées

This has been in my rotating wallpapers so long I don't remember where I got it.
I'm sure a 'pink blue night' search would pull it up eventually.
I picked up some nail polish last week. There is so much behind me and nail polish. I don't wear it. Me and nail polish are a disaster, and it's laughable to even try. The last time I'd had nail polish, it was dark lizard green in such bad glitter overload that it peeled off intact like plastic. That was years ago.

I destroy myself when I go into really rough weeks. I peel my nails to the quick and pick every little millimeter of skin I can reach. I especially destroy my lips. It took me years to realize I'm a self harmer. I pick till I bleed on perfectly healthy skin, and by the time I'm done, my nails look like I tried to claw my way through concrete walls.

Nail polish makes me exponentially more aware of what I do to myself. I'm so aware of that extra thousandth of a millimeter layer that it drives me crazy. This was a huge med change coming, and I knew adjusting and tweaking the dose would have me self destruct stimming like a rabid gerbil gnawing cage bars.

So what color... The lightest pink I can find, something so unnoticeable that I don't feel weird wearing it. But with sparkles because I like sparkles. But not too many sparkles. Barely pink, barely sparkly. It's unbelievable how big the combo range for pink and sparkly is.

And as I shred that application, I'll need a cover up polish that will subtly overlay both the damage I'm doing and the old color. Something white, but not whitewash white. More like clear white, with a an elegant hint of expensive glitter, the fine kind that doesn't look preteen. Something expensive so it won't chip easily. Something called- Diamonds. Nice.

I'm having a stupid bad week. But my nails look nice. And my lips are still in one piece. And I'm not mindlessly picking my way through my anxiety. All it takes is lightly running my fingertips over the rough sparkly texture on my nails, and the rest of me catches a break.