"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because my skin doesn't define who I am and it doesn't make me any less than.

I'm sitting on the bathroom floor. I was supposed to take a shower, but it's been an hour and my hands are covered in blood. It started with a rush, a feeling of uneasiness and restlessness. Now my skin hurts. I want to scream. I want out of my skin. The guilt and shame arise. I am disappointed in myself. I try to cover my skin and hide what I have done with clothes, bandages, zinc paste, anything I can find. But I can't change what's already been done.

When I was four, I used to bite my nails. At nine, my fingers were covered in bandages. When I turned 13, it got a lot worse. I was picking at my face, my chest and my fingers. I was ashamed to go to school because of my skin.

At the same time, I developed social anxiety. I went from being shy to being so anxious that I started avoiding social situations. I made up excuses for why I couldn't see my friends. My hands would shake when I tried to eat with other people. I became hyperaware of the way I swallowed and blinked. When I had to go back to school after the holidays, I cried and pretended to be sick so I wouldn't have to go. Even walking down the street or through the school hallways made me really anxious. Social anxiety made me pick more, but picking at my skin also made me more anxious because I was so ashamed of my skin.

Then I heard about dermatillomania. It made me feel seen. I finally had a name for my struggles. I wasn't alone. I was determined to stop picking. I tried everything. I covered my mirrors, went to the bathroom with the lights off, used gloves, tried to keep my hands busy, bought fidgets, tried TRE and read books about skin picking.

After years of struggling silently, at 17 I gathered up the courage to seek help. I went to the doctor, and then to a psychologist. She told me I needed more help than she could offer. I started therapy again, having first gone to psychotherapy at 15 because of my social anxiety. I started taking sertraline and beta blockers.

Medication and therapy helped with my social anxiety, but I knew that wasn't the only reason I picked. My skin picking didn't change at all, not with therapy and not with SSRIs. I picked when I was anxious or stressed, but I also picked when I was focused on something, bored, tired, overwhelmed, procrastinating, hungry or had eaten sugar.

I started using press-on nails. They helped a lot; it was hard to pick with them. But they didn't stop me. I started cutting the skin around my nails with scissors. I picked at my legs with tweezers and found sharp objects to pick at my skin with.

At 18, I tried hypnotherapy. After the very first session, my unconscious picking just disappeared. Since then, I haven't picked out of habit while reading or watching TV. But the conscious picking, the kind where I sit on the bathroom floor for hours or stand in front of a mirror, persists. Just seeing or feeling uneven skin, pimples or scabs makes me feel uneasy. I need to smooth it out, to fix it.

I cannot stand seeing my family so worried about me. "What if you need surgery one day? Open wounds pose a risk." "You get infections. One could take your life." I want to say that I'll stop. That I'll never pick at my skin anymore. But I've tried that. I can't just stop; it doesn't work like that. So instead, I say that I'll figure it out. And I really am trying to.

I have spent years trying to hide my picking with everything I have. I thought I would never share my story, but I am tired of being ashamed. I'm done hiding. I truly believe there's hope and that one day this won't control me. But for now, I'm focusing on accepting this part of myself, finding new, healthy coping mechanisms and, instead of drowning in shame, taking care of myself. The guilt and shame only push me to pick more, so I'm learning to let go of them." - @aini_mirjami, Aini, 19, Finland

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I deserve to feel beautiful and find happiness.

Struggled with my mental health for most of my life. I have OCD, anxiety and skin picking disorder. I've also dealt with bouts of depression. I usually say my mental health issues started when i was 10/11 years old, but when i think back i believe they started even earlier. I remember picking my skin as a little kid. Whenever i would get any kind of bug bites or mosquito bites, i would pick them and make them bleed. I also remember having some OCD tendencies as a little kid as well.

Although i experienced these issues in elementary school, they didn't start to have as detrimental an impact on me until middle school. I remember feeling so alone. I've always been kind of shy and didn't have many friends but i became even more withdrawn. It was around this time when i first experienced depression. I also start to develop acne. I didn't like how i looked.

I constantly felt like i wasn't good enough. I didn't know it at the time, but i began to slowly develop more OCD rituals. It would be little things here and there such as checking the lights in my room and counting brush strokes when i brushed my hair. My parents would say that "i liked to dawdle" and "i get distracted easily". My parents did see that i was struggling though and offered to bring me to a therapist but i kept refusing. I felt ashamed that i was this way and didn't others to find out.

When i started high school, i joined the cross country team. So for a little while things started to get better since i was part of a group now. It didn't last long though. The summer before my sophomore year, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. All my issues--OCD, anxiety, skin picking, depression--that i had been trying to hide began to amplify. I began doing more and more OCD rituals. I also began picking at my skin even more. I would pick at my face, arms, legs, chest, back; pretty much everywhere. The other students would ask questions that i didn't like to answer, such as "why are you doing that?" And "what are those on your legs?" I didn't know how to explain what was happening to me and i felt embarrassed.

My mom went into remission but unfortunately her cancer came back at the end of my junior year and started to spread. This time around she had to go through even more rigorous treatment than the first time. It was heartbreaking to see my mom go through her treatments. She was in pain and there wasn't anything i could do to help her. It was at this point when i felt like everything started to spiral out of control. My OCD and skin picking specifically became very severe. I felt like i was losing my mind.

I would tell my parents that i thought something was wrong with me but they would just say no nothing is wrong with you. It was spring semester of my senior year when i saw my first therapist. My little sister was having some anxiety issues and started seeing a therapist so i thought i should try too. This is when i got my OCD diagnosis. I was relieved to finally have a name for this disorder that had taken over my life. Now that i had a diagnosis, i thought i could learn how to manage it. That was much easier said then done. I learned different strategies to help me manage and i was also started on some medication to help with my anxiety.

After i graduated high school, i went to college. College was definitely a challenge at times; i was trying to learn how to be an adult and cope with my mental health issues. During the first semester of my second year, i decided to try living in an apartment next to campus instead of at home. I had 3 roommates and unfortunately they were not very understanding. Once, one of my roommates caught me picking and she got really upset and called me gross and disgusting. I remember feeling so embarrassed and ashamed. The roommates would also get annoyed with my OCD rituals. I felt like a freak. At the end of the semester i decided to move out and move back in with my parents.

It was at this time that i entered an intensive group therapy program. It was very helpful. I realized that wasn't alone; there were other people struggling too. Over the years, i have tried a couple different therapists and a few different treatments.I also learned the terms "body focused repetitive behavior" and "dermatilamania". Some treatments worked, some didn't. I'm still trying to find what works best for me. For now i am doing okay. I am living on my own and managing my mental health issues the best i can. I still struggle sometimes. I still feel ashamed sometimes and feel like i'm not good enough. I am still a work in progress. Because of groups like this one, I know now that i am not alone. And if other people can keep moving forward, then i can too." - Nicole, 31, CA

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I want to get better for myself. Not to look nicer, or to please my family, or to avoid questions from people. Even if getting better doesn't mean remission---even if it means just feeling like myself alongside this disorder, and not despite of or against it.

When I first read people's stories here, it struck me how much more impactful they were than simply knowing about the disorder---something that had already seemed life changing when I first learned about it at 11. These are real people, and some of their stories are even like mine, which was especially helpful for me during a time I feel alone in my journey. I was tempted at first to tell a story from the future. Keep all the beginning real, but continue on to tell a success story. Because I don't like facing that I'm in a quite hopeless situation where I can't seem to find access to anyone who might have an inkling of understanding about BFRBs. I have my whole life ahead of me. Why not write a story where I'm happy and without shame, and maybe even in control of my picking? But that's not what these stories are about. So I'll start from the beginning, and end at where I'm at.
The first concrete memory I have of evidence of my picking is at 8, but it's highly possible it began earlier. The thing is, I don't often remember picking itself, so it's difficult to pinpoint the beginning. It's possible I even picked in preschool, because I have faint memories of blotting blood from my thumbs on my sleeping bag during nap time. I struggled with it since then, and it was the only BFRB I had in 4th and 5th grade. In 5th grade, I thought it would be smart to isolate the picking to only my thumbs. But all that did was make it worse in my thumbs, and I would pick to bleeding most days in school. I didn't realize this until a long time later, but looking back on all the past years and BFRBS, there is a very clear and predictable pattern within all these behaviors. I remember in 5th grade, there was a boy that asked me repeatedly what had happened to my fingers, even asking if I had burned them. Each time I was stone silent. At the time, I knew of the disorder, but I was unsure if I had it. It was the only way I could describe it to someone else, and yet I couldn't lie about having a disorder, so I was speechless. Several other people have asked me about my hands and face, but I've come to be grateful that my picking isn't overly visible unless you look close. In sixth grade, nail biting was my primary BFRB. In 7th grade, lip and cheek biting. Then I got aligners, or Invisalign, and I suddenly couldn't do both of those, though I did so whenever I got the chance. And I noticed that the skin picking that I though had been "getting better" suddenly came back...along with face picking(primarily pimples and scabs). Face picking was the first ever partly compulsive BFRB I've had---all others are automatic and unconscious. In recent years, face picking has risen to my primary BFRB, and suddenly, I am wishing I could go back to when finger picking was my only BFRB...
I've tried too many things to count---fidgets of all kinds, willpower, replacing with another BFRB, using creams and moisturizers and bandaids...but the problem with all of these is that they take conscious effort, and after one day of expending all this energy, I don't have enough for the next day. Or even if I make it a week, I'll have immediate relapse the next week at an even worse level, almost to "make up for lost time." I feel out of ideas, and I'm not even sure what the best course of action is for me. I deal with nightly yelling from my parents, and I'm frankly doubtful any adult I can access will know what a BFRB is. But I still hold out hope that one day I will find people who understand, or talk to a professional, or just feel unashamed of myself. It's frustrating that all I have is a "maybe someday," but I'll take it." - Anonymous, 17

"I suffered from skin picking also known as dermitillomania. I had a Christmas miracle and stopped, I was using Prozac going to therapy and my dr put me on rexulti. I’m on other meds. Keeping my hands busy on my phone helps to. I always knows that it will comeback, but at least for now no." - Anonymous, 58, USA

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I want to remember the smiles and joy over the blemishes and shame.

When I was in 7th grade, I discovered what I vaguely recall (it was many years ago) to be a mole on my left arm. I'd never had a mole before and instantly went to show my mom because I knew that she'd have the answer about what it was, or might be. Her immediate response was to let her know if it got any worse-looking, and she would take me to the doctor to make sure that it wasn't something of the cancerous type or similar.

Which is a terrifying thing to hear at 12, 13 years old.

Scared of actually being terminally sick like that, I took matters into my own hands... And tried to pick the danged thing off that very night. Naturally, a few nights later, it had scabbed over, and my right fingers found pleasure in taking up the task yet again. Somewhere within that timeframe, I started getting acne and pimples, as all middle schoolers do. I'm pretty sure that it was much more about the pleasure of removing any "imperfections" than it was about the imperfections themselves, but those were dutifully tended to as well.

Looking back, I have no idea how I had no shame or embarrassment. Scabs, scars, and blemishes all across my arms, legs, and face brightly on display (especially during P.E.)... More of a desire to pick than to coast through the remainder of my school years at least trying to look like a normal school-aged girl... Not only that, but the picking continued. It did end up growing into a stress-induced habit (occasionally simply triggered by a glance in the mirror and finding a scab that looked satisfying to tug away), and I grew up into a very stressed-out woman; the picking was relentless.

Two (?) years ago, I saw a reel on Instagram about "The ADHD Urge To Pick At Your Skin," and instantly jumped into the comments. All my life, I had been looked at and told that what I was going through was not normal. But seeing all those comments made me feel seen, and even gave me a proper name for what I had been dealing with: dermatillomania. That gave me the strength to go and find anything related to the disorder, even leading me here. Seeing so many people like me has given me a sense of togetherness, and has given me the strength to try.

While I haven't fully been able to stop quite yet, I have mellowed out on it. Just last month, I took my first work I.D. photo that had a clear face without the use of makeup to conceal it. I plan on having the same results when I finally get my driver's license somewhere down the road." - Anonymous, 23, USA

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because my life, my skin.

I am the daughter of a mother who picked her skin first. I felt the uncomfortable tinge inside when I would witness her subconsciously picking away. “Stop!” I thought that would help. She would yell at me. Little did I know a few few years later I would be picking my skin in my sleep.
A psychiatrist told me that it was a type of OCD.
Fast-forward to 2023 when I began other types of therapy for the issue. Cognitive behavioral therapy unfortunately did not work for me. I have ADHD. It makes it very hard to spend any brain power on what seems like such a simple thing to do. Not in this brain. Is it stimming? Is it body dysmorphia? All I know is I wouldn’t be caught dead in a tight bathing suit. Don’t normally hear that from a woman who is 5’2” and 120 pounds. My thighs, my behind, my face. I’ve pretty much decided the only way I could feel comfortable in this skin again is if I tattooed over the worst areas. After years of disgust and frustration with my own behaviors, I am learning to love myself regardless." - @adigs.ls, Amanda Margaret DiGregory, 37, Pittsburgh

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because this is a search for perfection, a need to smooth what felt wrong. Instead, I find pain.

Reading my skin in Braille

It always starts quietly.
A finger hovering near another, pretending to be idle. And then oh, there it is. Unavoidable. My skin insists on being noticed for its imperfections.
If you thought this was heading somewhere tender like two people, closeness, tension.....
NO. Wrong genre.
This is about fingers. Only mine. And something that pretends to be (what we find easy to call) a bad habit.This is far more intimate, and equally less beautiful and flattering. Some of you will recognize it immediately. Some of you won’t.
This is about removal. Removal of what dared to appear imperfectly in the first place. While it’s happening, it’s like I slip into a trance. The world goes on pretty much normally. Noise is there. I talk if you want, stay silent if you say so. And maybe or maybe not , for a brief moment, everything feels aligned and smooth, and as if I have earned something after all that effort , like shōkakkō , only to lose it again. And then The Treasure Hunt Begins Anew!!!.
There is a whole variety here , skin, nail, cuticle, sometimes even my lip or an old wound I refuse to let heal.
I don't choose it ,
but it has always chosen me .
Without consent. Without a will.
My thumb starts to move like I am reading Braille, searching for the slightest ridge. A raised edge. A tiny roughness too will do. And once I find it, my body and , as if, even my soul locks in with all determination I contain within. The urge sharpens and refuses to leave so quick. I scratch, bite, worry at it with a strange kind of devotion. Almost passion .
And the best part ?
I know. I know it stings. I know this is going to hurt. I know it will bleed and look ugly and feel ugly. I know my hands won’t look graceful like other people’s. I know eating will hurt, washing will sting, and touching anything will feel daunting .
I know all of this while I am doing it.
There is a live running commentary playing in my head as I keep pulling at that extra ridgy piece. "Please stop, don't, this is stupid, you will regret this."
And yet, I do not stop.
Because it does not end when it hurts. It ends when it’s off. Off of me.
This moment feels almost holy. Almost. There is this weird ridiculous relief , finally clean, finally precise. Right? No?
Oh.
I see.
Reality returns and taunts me with a pulse.
Tender fingers.
A dull ache.
A relief.
A strange smile.
Hands that look like they have been through something they never wanted to experience.
That is when the sting shows up, deeply offended, like my body has just been betrayed by its own hands. As if it were asking me . Why would you do this to me? Why give me an ache I never asked for? Did I deserve it?
Then the regret.
Then the blood, because of course.
And the guilt trailing behind....
And maybe now I understand what this is. This is a search for perfection, a need to smooth what felt wrong .
Instead, I find pain." - Aamna Fatima, 19, India

"I’ve had this habit ever since I can remember, I was always scolded for it which made me conditioned to be ashamed of it, and I am. Its ugly. People often notice when I pick at my thumbs especially during conversations or even just randomly. Because of this I tend to hide my hands a lot or make the effort to wear long sleeves that hide my thumbs. I feel insecure holding peoples hands because of it but I just can’t seem to stop even when I try to. No matter what I do I can’t help but pick." - Vivien, 20

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I'm tired of hurting myself, of being embarrassed of my reflection and also afraid to see my own image knowing I'll start again if I see or feel something. I don't want to feel so ashamed and I hate worrying my wife so much every time.
My mother was prone to it, and passed the urge down to me. I pick at my face, my shoulders, chest and legs. Anywhere with easy access. For years I've tried to hide it and struggled to explain that it's not intentional, that I can't control it. I got married recently and my wife has taken to distracting me and helping take care of the little injuries but it hasn't stopped. Feels like it never will. " - Anonymous, 35, USA

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I'm tired of hurting myself during small inconveniences. I started picking young, and since then, I have scars all over me, mostly on my arms and wrists. And now, it's been developing on my scalp. I have eczema on my arms, legs, and scalp, and it causes buildup patches on my scalp. I started picking at it and since then I've developed wounds on my scalp, ranging from small ones on my hairline to one the size of a quarter on the side of my head. When COVID came, it got so much worse. I developed depression and started picking more to hurt myself. I'm tired of being ashamed to walk outside, constantly worrying someone will see what's happening and make comments. It's going to be a hard battle. I tried stopping picking scabs on my body before and always relapsed, but I'm going to try again, finally. I hope that some of you out there who are like me can help yourself, even if it's slow help. I believe in you, even if you can't believe in yourself.
Since I was a little kid, I have had SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder). I was never diagnosed with anything until my teens. I don't know when I started picking, but it was at a young age. I have scars all over my body, and some are developing on my scalp. We learned I have Autism, middle functioning. It's been a hard battle, but I hope other people like me (especially those my age) can use my story to give theirs a happy ending." - Gabriel, 16, OK

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking I deserve to live a healthy and happy life without being insecure to my skin's appearance.
The picking started for me when I started middle school, having become stressed and anxious of starting a new school. It started with the keratosis pilaris bumps on my upper arms, picking at them and feeling a relief to see the substance expunged from the bump, I would do it to the point of giving myself staph infections in the wounds. I would wear jackets during the summer, being very self conscious and still am today about the scars and wounds that liter my arms and legs. I never quite understood why I did it and people always asked why I couldn't stop, which I answered I don't know. I began to pick lower on my arms to my legs as I got older and still continue now. But having learned of what really it was called a few years ago." - Riley, 24, GA

"I'm #PickingMe over Skin Picking because I deserve to feel better about myself
When I was little I noticed bumps on my arms and I found out its a skin condition basically they are little bumps filled with pus as I kept getting older I would pick more and more leaving scars and red arm for months. I felt ashamed and embarrassed and still am to this day. I only do this when I'm anxious or board but I still feel less pretty." - Anonymous, 16

"I've been picking my skin ever since I had chicken pox when I was a child, those scabs never got to heal for years, then came on my teenage acne and hair growth (ingrown hairs!).
For well over a decade, I've had very bad self esteem and my skin added to my insecurities.
I could never dress up in short sleeves or show my legs like the other girls, later on, it affected my confidence to find a partner, I felt so ashamed to show someone my skin, I would always hope someone just didnt notice, but I got a few comments.
Over the years, with lots of research and heart, I've improved my picking habits, and I've noticed a great reduction in scarring.
Also one of the main things, is take it slowly, get a massage, show off abit of my legs, try a new skin oil, small steps really help me.
I am still healing and I find myself picking everyday, but I'd like to share my pictures to show others that you can also do it like me!" - Anonymous, 24

"It started with the sunburn I got at spring break. The sunburn on my scalp caused me to scratch the area. Even after that sunburn is gone I continued to scratch because I felt like there was still dead skin there. The more I scratched the more itchy and irritated the area became to the point where I started losing hair. I am so embarrassed and afraid for people to notice." - Anonymous, 22