I have a real problem that I struggle with every day. Picking my face. Not popping zits but scrapping and digging holes and squeezing so hard I make painful bruises. My mother once told me I was self-mutilating and I was furious. That’s not what I’m doing, I’m not like that!

But I am. I do it without thinking and I do it when I’m stressed and I do it when I’m bored and I do it when I’m thinking. It’s terrible.

Most the time I can cover the spots with makeup and no one would really know, but sometimes it gets out of control and I look like I have a disease, like maybe I’m a leper. I really wonder sometimes if people think I do.

It wasn’t until my boyfriend, who was quitting cigarettes at the time, said to me, “It’s like cigarettes for you” that I really understood:

I have an addiction.

It might not be your standard run of the mill problem like cigarettes or alcohol, and thank God it’s not drugs, but I have a real problem.

I try to combat my problem and I do really well for a while, but I always tend to “fall of the wagon.” It’s incredibly upsetting.

I decided to write about this today because I realized, just now, that I’ve fallen again. Looking in the mirror I see tons of new scars and there were two bumps on my face I had struggled all day not to touch. I was having a very hard time yesterday and I definitely picked. Last night I was trying to remember the helpful things I’ve heard and I tried to get my mind back to a healthy place. It didn’t work. Those two bumps are now bleeding holes.

I had been sitting here writing and I got up for a bathroom break. My mind turned off as I walked into the bathroom and I went straight to the mirror and ripped them both apart without a thought.

And I do mean without a thought.

I was daydreaming, thinking about future goals and what steps I needed to take when suddenly I focused on what I was actually doing and my face was bleeding. I took a good long look in the mirror, analyzing the damage done in the past week, and knew I’d really messed up and it’s back to the beginning again.

Maybe not the real beginning, I mean I get it now that I have a problem, but it is back to a beginning when you have to heal your face and even the healing process is dangerous because you always want to rip into the scabs as they heal. You can feel them there on your face and if you let yourself touch them you pick them. It’s a disgusting cycle and I had been doing so so well.

So I made a decision to once again stop picking my face.

Statistics show that most smokers try to quit about 30 times before they are successful. My boyfriend says the urge never really goes away. This is a problem I will always deal with and I have to develop better habits and coping mechanisms if my face has any hope of every being free of the tyranny of me.

Things I do to fight my problem:

I used to only call it “picking” but I have learned to use harsh words to make it sound as bad as it is. “Scraping” is a word that really bothers me. It’s physical and disgusting to think that I am scraping my face. But it’s not enough.

My boyfriend pointed out that there is a difference between popping a zit and picking your face. That clarification was helpful for me to think about. It made it ok to take care of a zit without demolishing it. But it’s a dangerously thin line for me. An addict can’t just have one and be done. An alcoholic can’t have one drink and I know that if I pop that zit I’ll probably pick it too.

So what else can I do?

Cut my nails. I love my nails long and beautiful and shaped just right. They make my fingers look long and elegant. When I had my last fall off the wagon and I was truly out of control my boyfriend suggested the problem was having long nails. I was so offended and so against cutting them that I realized it would be a good punishment if I picked again. Silently I threatened myself that “I will CUT THEM if I picked again.” Not five minutes later I was in the bathroom, cutting my nails and crying. It was a really big moment for me. I had completely accepted my problem and, though I knew my nails weren’t to blame, I recognized this was an opportunity for change so I cut them.

It was very successful and helpful. Not only did I cut them down to nothing, but they had been long for so many years that the skin of my fingertips was incredibly sensitive and anytime I tried to pick I had a sickening feeling from the tips of my fingers. Also whenever they started to grow back the rule was re-established and the moment I picked I had to cut them.

I’m not saying I didn’t pick but I was so much more aware of my picking that I was better able to stop it. I had to cut them many times and it took a long time to grow my nails back. By the end of it my fingers were no longer sensitive but the idea was now firmly in my head and I was better able to deal with my problem.

It was only recently that I finally had may nails back to their beautiful and glorious length. I loved them again. Last week they were long and beautiful and my face was in good condition and I was fine. But last week I also started to have a breakout (something that is a trigger for my picking) and I have been trying to find my dream job and I was waiting to hear back on an application. Last night I did hear back and I didn’t get the job.

So today, in the bathroom, I cut my nails again. My fingertips still aren’t anywhere near as sensitive as they were before but I already notice it helping. As I was writing this I stopped to read it over and started to mindlessly pick, but it felt funny on my finger and made me realize what I was doing.

It’s so very hard to break this habit but I really want to. I want clear and healthy skin. I want to be free of this addiction. I want to have long nails.

 

Disclaimer:
I wrote this post months ago. I cried while I wrote it. It was a painful thing to admit but I felt that it was something I had to do in order to heal. I needed to be honest and real about my problem. I wrote it with every intention to post it but in the end I couldn’t. I waited and re-read it about a month later, still knowing I needed to post it but still not able to push that button.

Now I am doing so much better. Sense writing this post I have made great improvements. I still struggle but my face looks the healthiest it has in years. I have long nails that I cut only when they get to long. I am happy with myself and my progress but still I need to post this. Maybe I want to show the world how good I’m doing, or maybe I just need to follow through with this part of my healing. Either way I feel this post is important so today I edited it and took a picture.

Today I hit publish.