I told a lie.
Okay. So in my last blog i mentioned that i had *burnt* my face. That, i am sorry to admit was a big fat lie.
I was diagnosed with body dysmorphia about 18 years ago and part of that illness is picking at skin - it's called Dermatillomania. I am really embarrassed to talk about this, but as i am a very open person...i have decided to.
**Compulsive face picking is not a sign of poor hygiene nor is it necessarily a sign of a hard-to-control acne problem. Quite often someone with this behavioral issue will begin picking at a spot that is entirely invisible to the naked eye but the urge to focus on it can turn it into an open, bleeding wound that cannot be concealed, even under the heaviest cosmetics.
Some people develop the habit of compulsive facial picking as a result of damaged self-esteem, leaving the subject feeling psychically wounded, unworthy. They pick to emphasize the blemishes in their lives or characters although these social blemishes are often seen by only the subject him- or herself and the picker may not be aware that the face picking is out of control.**
It's a vicious (soul destroying) cycle that works like this. I spend hours inspecting my already horrendously scarred face, looking for imperfections. I find one, then i am determined to get rid of it...but any which way. Generally that means but either a needle or tweezers but most of the time, its both. So once i have picked at it..it looks shit. So i pick some more to rectify what damage i have done, and so the hell begins. I am NOT kidding, the "thing" on my face and chin started out at no bigger than half a piece of rice, i am talking tiny, but it was there and i hate things like that on my face (despite knowing the consequences of what will happen if i try and get rid).
For the last X weeks i have battled against trying to sort out my face only to fuck it up SO much that i will now, undoubtedly be scarred, for life. The HOLES where i have been DIGGING at quite frankly nothing, are the size of a 1p piece, now that is big to have on a very small head. I reckon i have gone through at least 4/5 layers of skin.
With this...i can't go out. I've not left the house in a week and the last time i did, i wore plasters, on both my nose and chin...what a fucking freak. I am in constant pain from where i have picked so much. NOTHING in the world will cover the "wound"...unless i give some kind of filler a go. Make up just sinks into the hole making it look even more disgusting, but the bright redness of it...makes it impossible NOT to try and cover. Its horrible. I went out today, for 5 minutes. I walked around the town, with my head down, hair covering as much of my face as possible, but i felt so uncomfortable, i had to come home. My boyfriend met me, for those few minutes and i just cried and cried. I felt/feel so ugly. He tells me constantly that he loves me regardless, he's NOT happy that i do these things to myself, but he says it doesn't change his feelings. ((I HOPE))
So that is that. I am still very depressed, but not surprising really.
I was diagnosed with body dysmorphia about 18 years ago and part of that illness is picking at skin - it's called Dermatillomania. I am really embarrassed to talk about this, but as i am a very open person...i have decided to.
**Compulsive face picking is not a sign of poor hygiene nor is it necessarily a sign of a hard-to-control acne problem. Quite often someone with this behavioral issue will begin picking at a spot that is entirely invisible to the naked eye but the urge to focus on it can turn it into an open, bleeding wound that cannot be concealed, even under the heaviest cosmetics.
Some people develop the habit of compulsive facial picking as a result of damaged self-esteem, leaving the subject feeling psychically wounded, unworthy. They pick to emphasize the blemishes in their lives or characters although these social blemishes are often seen by only the subject him- or herself and the picker may not be aware that the face picking is out of control.**
It's a vicious (soul destroying) cycle that works like this. I spend hours inspecting my already horrendously scarred face, looking for imperfections. I find one, then i am determined to get rid of it...but any which way. Generally that means but either a needle or tweezers but most of the time, its both. So once i have picked at it..it looks shit. So i pick some more to rectify what damage i have done, and so the hell begins. I am NOT kidding, the "thing" on my face and chin started out at no bigger than half a piece of rice, i am talking tiny, but it was there and i hate things like that on my face (despite knowing the consequences of what will happen if i try and get rid).
For the last X weeks i have battled against trying to sort out my face only to fuck it up SO much that i will now, undoubtedly be scarred, for life. The HOLES where i have been DIGGING at quite frankly nothing, are the size of a 1p piece, now that is big to have on a very small head. I reckon i have gone through at least 4/5 layers of skin.
With this...i can't go out. I've not left the house in a week and the last time i did, i wore plasters, on both my nose and chin...what a fucking freak. I am in constant pain from where i have picked so much. NOTHING in the world will cover the "wound"...unless i give some kind of filler a go. Make up just sinks into the hole making it look even more disgusting, but the bright redness of it...makes it impossible NOT to try and cover. Its horrible. I went out today, for 5 minutes. I walked around the town, with my head down, hair covering as much of my face as possible, but i felt so uncomfortable, i had to come home. My boyfriend met me, for those few minutes and i just cried and cried. I felt/feel so ugly. He tells me constantly that he loves me regardless, he's NOT happy that i do these things to myself, but he says it doesn't change his feelings. ((I HOPE))
So that is that. I am still very depressed, but not surprising really.
Comments
I can empathise to some degree because if I get a blemish it feels absolutely ginormous, I become obsessed and think I'm too ugly to be seen. I pick and squeeze and make a right mess, much worse than the orginal spot that appeared. I stick plasters on too, in an attempt to keep myself from messing more, and to hide how disgusting I look.
I want to look perfect all the time, and if something is amiss then everything else in life has to stop too. Not dysmorphia, just an obsession to be in complete control of everything. We all have our idiosyncrasies. Sometimes these are upsetting, but honestly, you've just gone even further up in my estimation if that's possible, for talking about it, because other people will relate and understand, and the rest will not judge you or think you're any less beautiful or wonderful than before.
Your boyfriend can see past this. It's good he's there as a shoulder to cry on. I hope he'll be a comfort, and help you to see how gorgeous you are, inside and out.
xxx
I can totally relate - in fact I do the same to myself.. but I know someday we will both overcome this. You´re not alone and it´s great to know I´m neither - Thx for sharing!!!