Monster exorcised

Wow, new entry so soon. Yes, well, that's because I just got the news that I have another skin cancer (but the friendly kind). That spot on my nose, the one that wouldn't heal, the one I had removed last week, will be the cause of yet another scar on my face. As if I don't have enough already. This is where I am right now:

I'm eight years old again, my own dog has gone mad, leaving hideous scars marking my face. I feel like Frankenstein's monster. I am amazed when others don't notice my scars, because that's all I see. This is what fuels the low self-worth fire, which leads to grade school ostracism, which ignites the suicidal thoughts that plague me until my 20s.

I don't want this new scar, the one I will be getting in September, to define or confine me the way I let the first ones do. I would like to think I have a better sense of self-respect, or at least where to look for it. So thanks little basel cell carcinoma, little monster, and happy transmigration.