Sometimes The Hardest Thing To Do Is Nothing At All

I pray anyone who reads will take my words and apply any to their lives that seem suitable...in the hopes that I may help them while I try to help myself...

I’m going on day three of no picking. The false nails are helping more than I imagined they would. At first, they were the only thing keeping me from tearing into my skin. But the longer I go without picking, the less I find myself relying on the nails, and the more I find myself relying on pride and determination. The fake nails have been my training wheels, and hopefully I can take them off soon and pedal safely to being healed.

The first day was the hardest. I looked in the mirror, and tell myself I couldn’t scratch, and I’d cry over not being able to “fix” my perceived imperfection. If I didn’t fix it, I would feel dirty and ugly. But the longer I go without “fixing”, the less I feel I need to “fix”. Even my recent breakouts and a bug bite on my knee have not gotten in my way yet. I feel extremely proud.

I’m learning about myself as I wade through the floodwaters of both a broken-off relationship and a struggle with my picking habit. I’m learning that sometimes the hardest thing for me to do is absolutely nothing. I’m learning that I have to let go of the idea that I can “fix” my skin or relationship with one move or one thought. As much as I want to find the one thing to say or do that will heal all and bring my problems to peace, I have to recognize that just as in my swimming lesson where I learned that the more I struggle, the faster I sink, the more I try to “fix” my skin or solve my relationship issues, the more rapidly both get out of hand. I have to take deep breaths and relax if I want to float.

But I’m proud of my progress.

Perhaps I’ve said this before, but I consider two kinds of relationships to be the hardest:

1. Relationships with long distance

2. Relationships where addiction-type behavior exists

I guess you could say I’ve been involved in two relationships at once where both of those were happening at the same time in each of them.

One with another person.

Another with myself.

I obviously have an addiction-type behavior (though I know it’s more than that).

I would also consider myself in a long distance relationship with myself.

How can I be in a long-distance relationship with myself?

I can explain it simply.

I’ve felt a sense of detachment from myself for a while…off and on. Sometimes I feel fully present in my body and happy to be there. Other times I feel so jaded and dismal that I have this sense of “floating along” and barely getting by. I’ve been trying to find out why for some time. Sometimes I’m just not myself at all, and then I look in the mirror later and say “hey there, happy girl. You’re back…I haven’t seen you in a while”.  I don’t know why she shows up, but she’s usually around when I’m crafting, or daydreaming, or doing something I like. But even then, there are times she refuses to show her face. She’s there on the first day of a visit home from college to my family, though she fades by the end of the week and reappears when I get my own space back. She’s often there in the presence of my recently-slightly-less-significant-other (“Ex-boyfriend” sounds too harsh) when she feels hopeful that he’s recovering, and that there’s still a chance to save things now that she’s getting better too.


But my cynical half keeps this girl in check. My cynical half tells me that we will both “relapse”, and that there won’t be a “better” or a “later” for us.  She tells me that even if I don’t pick, I will always be covered in scars and look dirty.

Maybe it’s odd that I refer to different traits about myself as being different people, but I feel that it’s like having kids in a way. Referring to them all as individuals helps me see where/who different thoughts are coming from and who I need to pay attention to and nurture a little extra that day….who I need to discipline lovingly…who I need to hug and reassure.

Again, I have to find the balance…

Between telling myself there is hope and telling myself that hope is an illusion and I will soon see that what I want most is just not meant to happen.

But for both situations, one of the most important factors is love.

So long as I love myself, I stand a chance of getting better.

So long as we love each other, there’s a chance of a future between us.

But no one can promise me either of these things.

This is more incentive to keep on going and keep on trying...

Trying to do nothing.

To do nothing about my wounds but give them ointment, keep my hands down, and accept that what I think will “help” will only hurt.

To do nothing about my recently-slightly-less-significant-other but leave him alone, give him space, and let him approach to me if that’s what he chooses. He too is one of my wounds; constantly messing with him to try and “fix” things will only irritate the situation.

To just be myself, take a deep breath, and not struggle…

…so that I may float.

I’ve watched on in the past three days and found something amazing.

When you leave your skin alone, it heals. Fast.

Maybe I’m stupid for not really realizing that before, but my body has healed wounds plenty of times without me really leaving them alone. It takes a long time, and the scars are deep. In fact, I have wounds that are just now healing that have been open for over three months. They were the most tempting because they were in a place my clothes always cover, making them some of the easiest to hide. They’re the ones I’m most ashamed of right now because they are deep purple marks on otherwise white skin. Even though they have healed almost all the way, they might as well always be there with how much they stand out.

Picking makes my wounds permanently noticeable.

If I pretend they aren’t there and leave them alone, it’s like they never were.

I have realized that my skin is amazing and alive.

And I don’t want to hurt it anymore if I can help it.

I will heal.

Hatred of Body and Self: Working on My Self-Love

I pray anyone who reads will take my words and apply any to their lives that seem suitable...in the hopes that I may help them while I try to help myself...

There are days I wake up and cry over how dissatisfying my reflection is. But not in the sense you might think. I don’t think I’m fat. I don’t think I need a dye job or rely on heavy eye makeup to get me through my day. In fact, I wear no makeup whatsoever for the most part. I like to let my skin breathe, and honestly, I just don’t have the time or desire to “put on my face” every morning. I cry over it because I see a girl who appears unhealthy, lazy, and looks like she lacks enough discipline to look as healthy and beautiful as she could, even though I know that some of the things that I’m upset about aren’t the way they are because of languor.

Naturally, my skin is the biggest reason I feel this way. No surprise there. Some of it comes from the media and social pressure, but only a small fraction. I couldn’t care less what some magazine article has to say about my appearance. Some of it comes from my own desires to look as beautiful on the outside as I sometimes feel on the inside. And some of it comes from a loved one.  It’s one thing for someone writing an article in a magazine to tell me I should look a certain way. I don’t know them, they don’t know me, and we don’t care about each other, so it’s easy to ignore. But when it’s someone who I know and trust, I really do internalize those messages. Now, this loved-one happens to be an addict, and I have read, heard, know, and understand that addicts often point out the flaws of other people in their lives to make them feel better about their own flaw of addiction- to, in their mind, bring the other person to their level by pointing out that they are not perfect either. It makes them feel more secure about themselves. So really, I should ignore and let go of the things this person says, as they are only practicing a natural response to their own issues. However, some of these things were already internalized before I realized why this person was behaving so.  I should also mention that this person spoke out about my physical appearance in the name of showing concern for my health. It wasn’t to try and kill my self-esteem; it was to get me to take action to improve my health. Unfortunately, it did more to my self-esteem. Yes, I know it was supposed to help. But each time this person would look at me and criticize the appearance based health concern, or each time I would complain about physical discomfort, this person always found a way to link it to an appearance-related flaw of mine.

When I look in the mirror, I see exaggerated versions of things this person has pointed out as flaws:

• ·         I see my crooked back and rounded shoulders, and it seems like no matter how tall and straight I try to stand, my shoulders look hunched over, and spine looks crooked and bulky. I look in the mirror and see hunchback, no matter my posture. I see ugliness, even though I know no one else probably notices anything unusual. I’ve been told that poor posture can lead to all kinds of issues, and I do take them into consideration, but I think that with my picking issue, I just ended up taking my loved-one’s advice as something else about my looks that I ought to be ashamed of.
• ·         I see my skin, of course. Before finding out that I had a legitimate problem causing me to treat my skin the way I did, many of my loved ones would get after me for my ‘bad habit”. They would make threats of what they would do if I didn’t stop. Some were empty, silly threats (like tying my hands behind my back), others were very serious (like booting me out of their life). Some of the criticism was made out of love, and some of it out of pure disgust. One loved one even told me I looked like a crack-addict and that they would slap the shit out of me if I didn’t knock it off. I’ve tried suggesting to my family that what I have may very well be a disorder, but they seem to shrug it off like I’m being a drama-queen and trying to avoid taking responsibility for my actions. But at least one loved one has apologized for “trivializing” my problem and not taking it as seriously as they should have.
• ·         I’ve had various comments from my addiction-suffering loved one about needing to exercise so my butt would be bigger and my body would be more toned. I’ve had comments about muscles in my legs being overdeveloped and looking bulky.  I’ve been told when I should be sleeping, what I should be doing, eating, thinking, feeling, and how big the bags under my eyes are. Again, I know all of this was supposed to make me think and improve my exercising and whatnot, and it was not to hurt me. But it did hurt.

Some of it wasn’t so much about my appearance as is it was my intelligence or maturity. 

 

I often hear comments about my age. How “if I was older I would understand/think differently/etc”.  I understand that being only 20, I have room to mature and change my mind- as I will for the rest of my life…as everyone on the planet does. But my comments and concerns are often discredited because of the number 20. Sometimes strangers don’t take me seriously because I simply look young…sometimes younger than I am. And I get what I would describe as “pat you on the head and pinch your cheek” kind of treatment – I get treated like some idiot middle-school kid. I’ve been picked on as being immature for chewing gum too much , for not liking sushi (raw fish isn’t my thing), for not knowing how to swim or for not knowing the difference between a salad fork and other forks (I’m sorry I didn’t grow up privileged).



I have taken these things too seriously in an effort to please the other person. I like to make people happy, and I often let that desire to please interfere with my boundaries and comfort zones. At one point, I told myself that it was all true. That being unable to swim made me childish and silly. That not liking sushi made me less of a grown woman. It's crazy what codependency with an alcoholic can do to the mind. But as least I knew better deep down, and have since dismissed those ideas as having any truth.

Ironically, this person who has called me childish for these types of things and says they sometimes feel like they have to be a parent to me is someone that I have had to play mother to many times when their addiction takes control. But they never see that. I’ve had to walk this person across the street after they stumbled in front of a car. I have had to tell them which way was home when they could not get there themselves. I’ve had to tell them not to make fun of a little girl for being chubby. I’ve had to take things away from them before they broke them. I have had to tell them as though they were 4 years old that it was bedtime and to be quiet so they didn’t wake other people. I have seen tantrums and bedwetting. But I never once (intentionally) discredited their words and feelings for not always having adult behavior, and I never intentionally belittled them for it. Yet for all of these responsibilities I have accepted, I’m called the child. I’m the one feeling belittled. I’m the one who is told I have yet to reach adulthood and maturity. And that downright frustrates me. But if you are reading this, and find that you are that person, know that I love you anyway and have faith you will heal.



I feel that my space to be an individual has been invaded by silly little demands that add up and eventually make me feel bad about myself. I don't have to like sushi. I don't have to be able to swim. That doesn't make me any less of a person, any less or more of an adult, or any less loving and beautiful. That makes me an individual. Individuality is a collection of things a person does and doesn't like, does and doesn't participate in, can and cannot do, what they do well or don't do well, as well as their personality.

I was reading a while ago about how those who suffer from Compulsive Skin Picking can often start or worsen their behavior when they feel that they have no control over their lives and feel “picked on” or bullied. I read that picking can often be the way the sufferer thinks they can practice some sort of control. And I’m sorry to say that I took the advice of this loved one that was supposed to be helpful, and I internalized that as being “picked on”, and sometimes I wonder if it’s a coincidence that some of my picking got worse in the face of these kinds of comments. I felt belittled and not cared for. And part of that is my own fault for the way I interpreted it, though I did try to say something about it. Perhaps this is a lesson for me to keep a more open mind when people say things about my appearance- that maybe it’s not really about my appearance at all in one way or another. It could just be them trying to help, or it could be their own flaws causing them to try and find mine so they feel better about themselves. Those aren’t excuses for some of the comments, but they are reasons. And reasons give me some kind of insight as to how serious I should or should not take those words.

I love this person anyway, and I know that as they recover from their own issues, they may very well change this behavior. But as with many things, I need to find the balance- the balance between being patient and taking shit from people to the point where my self-esteem plummets.

I am an individual. I am made up of my flaws and the things I excel at. I am made up of my loves and dislikes. And I need to love every part of that. The picking, the under-eye bags, the less-than-perfect butt. I need to set goals, make changes, and love myself while I transform and heal. I need to place myself before others. I need to learn when to say “fuck you”. I need to learn when to walk away and seek something better, and when to wait for better to arrive rather than walking.

Better is on its way.

For me.

For the one I love.

For all of my loved ones.

We will all heal.

My Plan of Action

I pray anyone who reads will take my words and apply any to their lives that seem suitable...in the hopes that I may help them while I try to help myself...

So, I bought fake nails for the first time. And when I put them on, I immediately felt like ghetto diva. But on the plus side, I haven’t removed a single scab or produced a single drop of blood since.  On the other hand, typing takes forever, and I feel a little silly over some of the simple things I have trouble doing on my own, like buttoning things and untying knots. But it’s worth it to know I’m healing, and with practice, I’m sure I’ll be just as capable as before.

I know I mentioned that I would be starting my Habit Reversal Training, but I think I need to begin with practicing simple meditation and mindfulness first. Why? Because it seems to me that meditation is actually a significant part of Habit Reversal Training. And after failing with my HRT the first time, I think perhaps I need to start with mastering that basic concept.

While I practice and improve the meditation skills that will hopefully help heal my insides, though, I also hope to heal on the outside by taking away my ability to pick with the fake nails (they are a temporary helper, but not an answer) and practicing another concept. I can’t recall the actual name of it at present, but I would refer to it as “Recognition without Action”.  It’s about being mindful and about recognizing the urge, and realizing that you don’t have to do anything about it. That you can ride it out (I would assume through meditation in part). I personally plan to challenge myself. I know that mirrors are a dangerous thing for me sometimes, but rather than accidentally seeing something in the mirror as I pass it and reacting, I plan to purposefully go to the mirror and practice simply keeping my hands in my lap, meeting my own eyes, and reminding myself that:

1.       I am beautiful inside, and want to reflect that on the outside by showing myself love.

2.       I have been strong, am strong, and will continue to be strong.

3.       I can get my feelings out without hurting my skin

4.       The relief I will get from picking is temporary

5.       The perceived poison is in my mind, not my skin- I need to cleanse my mind rather than pick.

The concept I am referring to can be found here in this interview (a link I’ve posted before, but will post again): http://www.skinpick.com/interviews/jonhershfield

After I feel like I can meditate successfully, and practice “Recognition without Action”, I will try again with the Habit Reversal Training. I believe I have been failing because I am eager to heal, and have been jumping the gun and trying to do all of these concepts at once without practicing them by themselves first. I need to start with one and build on it. I need to develop a routine, write it down, and commit to it.

So here it goes.

MY PLAN OF ACTION:

1.       Every morning, I vow to practice meditating alone in a peaceful spot outside.

2.       Every evening, I vow to look intentionally in the mirror and remind myself of the concepts mentioned above:

·         I am beautiful inside, and want to reflect that on the outside by showing myself love.

·         I have been strong, am strong, and will continue to be strong.

·         I can get my feelings out without hurting my skin

·         The relief I will get from picking is temporary

·         The perceived poison is in my mind, not my skin- I need to cleanse my mind rather than pick.

3.       In the times in between morning and evening, and the times between evening and morning, I vow to:

·         Try my best to remember what I learned from my meditation and “recognition without action”.

·         Try to respond to my urges to pick by practicing loving and healing actions like putting on bandages and lotions, and oils.

4.       I will remember that failing, falling, and stumbling don’t make me a failure or a disappointment. They make me human. And it will be okay anyway.

I will heal.