I am frustrated with myself. I know this fact before I've even
consciously acknowledged it, because my face is covered in angry red welts – a sign
of the compulsive picking that takes over whenever I get stressed.
You know that feeling when you know you can do more, but end up not. Not doing better, not living
up to expectations, not performing, just not.
The worst thing is when I see it in Ian’s face, or hear it
in...
