I remembered this, repeated this over and over as I stood in the shower, the freezing water beating against my blistering skin. Waiting, praying, cursing, pleading, weeping, waiting for the antihistamines to work so I could continue to live in my skin. This was my sign. When I was nine, the same thing happened and that was that - no more nuts. But ten years later the unopened kilo bag of almonds lay on the table and without thinking I found myself on the kitchen floor, stuffing fistfuls of nuts into my mouth, my throat already beginning to tighten, my ears burning, my hands burning, numb and still stuffing between my swollen lips.
As I stood in the shower, I could see the weals red and accusing against my skin, I thought of this blog. Never before have so many people cared, commented. And I want to thank every single person who has ever commented on this - your words clung to me as I stood in the shower, resisting the urge to flay my skin off, bringing me back. I took this photograph this afternoon. It kind of reminds of me of all you faceless people who seem so much more real to me than the people I see in front of me.