I can’t exactly tell you when it started.
What I can tell you, though, is that it started out very small.
I was 13 years old.
It started on my right ring finger as a small scab of some sort.
I didn’t even think to put a band-aid over it.
I had just recently developed what my mother would call a “tick”.
“Tick” was the nickname we used in the house to describe the obsessive and compulsive rituals I have had over the years.
Until now, I have never shared the names of my ticks. I’ve named them all in my head but the names have always come so naturally and I’ve never thought to share them with anyone.
Part A of my current “tick” is called the “Right-Left-Up-Down”.
The “Right-Left-Up-Down” is when I take my hand, curl it into a fist, and rub my knuckles along my lips in the pattern, “Right, left, up, down”. I repeat the rhythm of the words in my head as I follow through with the motion. I repeat this motion as many times as I need to until I feel “right”. Most of the time, I’m not even aware that I’m doing it.
One day, I was doing the “Right-Left-Up-Down” and noticed the difference between my four smooth fingers and the friction the scab on my ring finger created. I liked it. Before long, I added a Part B to the "Right-Left-Up-Down". I would scratch the scab on my ring finger with either my thumb or pinky.
So it began.
And now I am here.
19 years old and I have not seen most of what my right ring finger actually looks like because I have continued to tear, rip, bite and pull through layer after layer of the skin on my finger.
I have also moved this motion to all of my of my other fingers besides the two pinky fingers. I chew when I'm stressed. I chew when I'm tired. I chew when I'm bored. I just chew all day it seems.
Over the course of 6 years, I have tried and failed to stop this bad habit. I think I began to realize that it was pretty destructive when I started to pick at the skin till it would bleed. I also realized it was an issue when people would comment on it. One time my aunt told me it looked like I had acid burns on my fingers. I can understand the comparison. The skin on my fingers is rough, calloused, and uneven. The color ranges from a slight pink to a darker red.
After failed attempts and countless band-aids, I’ve come to the conclusion that this compulsion has had a much greater impact on my life than I’ve cared to believe.
“The Skin Picking disorder” , Dermatillomania, has been a part of me for so long. It has been an immediate relief for all of my worries, fears, doubts, and anxiety for years. I don't want to let it go but I'm realizing even more than now that I must. So let the journey continue on.
