Sunday, November 25, 2012
Feeling Better
After some struggling, I am feeling better. I was able to go to my dance class two weeks ago and my skin is healing. I've been able to avoid any really bad picking sessions. I've done this through a combination of staying busy, pushing through to the next activity when I've felt myself getting into picking mode, and keeping my goals in the back of my mind. On two days I also took vows not to pick, from that day to the next sunrise. I don't do this often because I take these vows quite seriously and I know they are hard to keep. On those two days I was able to honor my commitment and the vows helped me become aware of all the minor picking I do throughout a day, like scraping at my cuticles and feeling and scratching at the bumps on my scalp. I didn't write about my progress sooner because sometimes it feels like as soon as I write that things are getting better, they get worse. I don't think that will be the case this time; I intend to continue moving forward. I am still looking forward to the day when I can run my hands over my arms and feel smooth skin.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Missed Opportunities
Over the past few weeks I have been feeling quite stressed and haven't gotten enough sleep. I've had a couple of bad picking sessions. This resulted in me having to skip my favorite sports class yesterday. I wasn't up for wearing a short-sleeved shirt and would've been too hot otherwise. I don't want to miss any more opportunities like this.
I've mentioned previously that I'd like to write about how picking at my skin has affected my life. Well, actually, I don't want to write about it, but I think I need to. At the subconscious level, I think I've avoided really thinking about this, because I'm scared of what I will discover.
Perhaps the most conspicuous way that picking has affected me is to change the way I dress. I used to take pleasure in buying clothes, but at some point the purpose of clothing changed from expressing myself to covering up what I'd done to myself. I continued to buy short-sleeved and sleeveless shirts for awhile, but these shirts would sit in my closet, untouched. Now I have mostly long-sleeved shirts - light-weight ones for warm weather and thicker ones for the cooler months. The same goes for shorts and short skirts - I rarely wore them because I picked my legs as well. I still pretty much wear pants all the time. When you wear long-sleeves and long pants in the summer, you get a lot of looks and comments. At least, I did. My friends would always ask me, "Aren't you hot?" "No," I lied, "I grew up in the tropics; I feel more comfortable this way." One time I remember I wore a long-sleeved knit cotton shirt to a dance club and overheard some guys saying I must be a lesbian because I wasn't dressed like the other girls. Many times I wished I could wear whatever I wanted, to enjoy clothing like I used to. I still have this feeling sometimes.
More important than affecting how I dressed, though, was how picking changed the way I felt about myself. Picking and the scars that resulted from it made me feel very self-conscious and relatively anti-social. I did not want to be around people after I'd been picking my skin. If I had picked at my face I would avoid seeing anyone until the inflammation had died down. I think I may have not gone to work a few times because of this. Even if I had picked somewhere I could cover up, though, I would avoid gatherings with friends. I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to relax and enjoy myself. Of course, having picked recently meant I was not comfortable in intimate situations, either. Not only did I feel mentally depressed, I didn't feel in the least bit attractive.
Not being able to stop myself from picking also made me feel like a weak person. Why couldn't I stop? I was smart enough to get through school with good grades; why couldn't I stop doing something to myself that had no benefits and was clearly bad for me? My confidence suffered. I think I became less willing to challenge myself and to try new things.
Picking also prevented me from participating in activities I used to enjoy or probably would have enjoyed. Most significantly for me, I was not able to go swimming. Swimming is one of my favorite things to do and I spent much of my childhood in the water. In the past ten years or so, I've only gone swimming a handful of times. Every time I have, I've felt nervous about how my skin looked. Even today I don't feel like my skin is in good enough condition for me to wear a swimsuit. When I think about this, it makes me quite sad. Not feeling comfortable wearing a swimsuit kept me away from related activities like surfing and spending lots of time at the beach, too.
Another significant impact I believe picking has had on me is to make me feel tired all the time. I've written about this before. I don't know whether it's stress, or the extra energy required to heal broken skin, or some combination of the two, but picking definitely seems to make me feel tired. I still need a lot of sleep, and get worn out easily. After I've had a bad picking session, I feel totally exhausted, and usually end up needing to rest and to sleep extra hours.
What has been the cumulative effect of picking on my life? This is harder to analyze, but I think overall picking has made me a more serious person, has made me less willing to socialize, and has made it more difficult for me to trust people. I'm not as outgoing, as adventurous, as fashionable, or as fit as I would probably otherwise be. It's possible that if I never started picking, I would have more friends, be more successful professionally, and be more socially engaged. However, the truth is, there is no way to know. My life took the path that it did, and I can't change what's done. The only thing I can do is to continue striving to use my time and energy in positive ways.
Right now, I'm thinking small - I'm just trying to get through the next week without picking so that I can go to my next sports class and enjoy it without feeling self-conscious. If I succeed, I may even consider going dancing wearing a sleeveless shirt! I'm sure most people take being able to do these kinds of things for granted; they don't know how lucky they are.
I've mentioned previously that I'd like to write about how picking at my skin has affected my life. Well, actually, I don't want to write about it, but I think I need to. At the subconscious level, I think I've avoided really thinking about this, because I'm scared of what I will discover.
Perhaps the most conspicuous way that picking has affected me is to change the way I dress. I used to take pleasure in buying clothes, but at some point the purpose of clothing changed from expressing myself to covering up what I'd done to myself. I continued to buy short-sleeved and sleeveless shirts for awhile, but these shirts would sit in my closet, untouched. Now I have mostly long-sleeved shirts - light-weight ones for warm weather and thicker ones for the cooler months. The same goes for shorts and short skirts - I rarely wore them because I picked my legs as well. I still pretty much wear pants all the time. When you wear long-sleeves and long pants in the summer, you get a lot of looks and comments. At least, I did. My friends would always ask me, "Aren't you hot?" "No," I lied, "I grew up in the tropics; I feel more comfortable this way." One time I remember I wore a long-sleeved knit cotton shirt to a dance club and overheard some guys saying I must be a lesbian because I wasn't dressed like the other girls. Many times I wished I could wear whatever I wanted, to enjoy clothing like I used to. I still have this feeling sometimes.
More important than affecting how I dressed, though, was how picking changed the way I felt about myself. Picking and the scars that resulted from it made me feel very self-conscious and relatively anti-social. I did not want to be around people after I'd been picking my skin. If I had picked at my face I would avoid seeing anyone until the inflammation had died down. I think I may have not gone to work a few times because of this. Even if I had picked somewhere I could cover up, though, I would avoid gatherings with friends. I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to relax and enjoy myself. Of course, having picked recently meant I was not comfortable in intimate situations, either. Not only did I feel mentally depressed, I didn't feel in the least bit attractive.
Not being able to stop myself from picking also made me feel like a weak person. Why couldn't I stop? I was smart enough to get through school with good grades; why couldn't I stop doing something to myself that had no benefits and was clearly bad for me? My confidence suffered. I think I became less willing to challenge myself and to try new things.
Picking also prevented me from participating in activities I used to enjoy or probably would have enjoyed. Most significantly for me, I was not able to go swimming. Swimming is one of my favorite things to do and I spent much of my childhood in the water. In the past ten years or so, I've only gone swimming a handful of times. Every time I have, I've felt nervous about how my skin looked. Even today I don't feel like my skin is in good enough condition for me to wear a swimsuit. When I think about this, it makes me quite sad. Not feeling comfortable wearing a swimsuit kept me away from related activities like surfing and spending lots of time at the beach, too.
Another significant impact I believe picking has had on me is to make me feel tired all the time. I've written about this before. I don't know whether it's stress, or the extra energy required to heal broken skin, or some combination of the two, but picking definitely seems to make me feel tired. I still need a lot of sleep, and get worn out easily. After I've had a bad picking session, I feel totally exhausted, and usually end up needing to rest and to sleep extra hours.
What has been the cumulative effect of picking on my life? This is harder to analyze, but I think overall picking has made me a more serious person, has made me less willing to socialize, and has made it more difficult for me to trust people. I'm not as outgoing, as adventurous, as fashionable, or as fit as I would probably otherwise be. It's possible that if I never started picking, I would have more friends, be more successful professionally, and be more socially engaged. However, the truth is, there is no way to know. My life took the path that it did, and I can't change what's done. The only thing I can do is to continue striving to use my time and energy in positive ways.
Right now, I'm thinking small - I'm just trying to get through the next week without picking so that I can go to my next sports class and enjoy it without feeling self-conscious. If I succeed, I may even consider going dancing wearing a sleeveless shirt! I'm sure most people take being able to do these kinds of things for granted; they don't know how lucky they are.
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