Dermatillamania in Therapy

When I was little I always picked at scabs. I loved it; the feeling, the satisfaction, the deep color of my own blood. I think that’s somewhat normal for a curious kid that spent a lot of time alone.
But it has evolved. When I was in middle school, I used to scratch at my shoulders and upper back. Any slight variation in the texture of my skin would get scratched at. I remember my first good spot and I still have a scar from it. Right where the collar of my t-shirts sat on my back. It probably started as just a slight bump, something that probably wasn’t even visible. But I remember picking at it during class until I had blood under my nails, then I would stop and wait for it to heal. Sometimes I was too impatient and it would bleed as soon as I picked at it, but other times it was more resilient. I’m not really sure when, but eventually I left it alone for long enough to heal completely.
There are also the little tiny raised scars on my belly and rib cage. I’m not sure when I started, or even when I stopped, but I used to scratch my stomach while I was asleep and it left marks.
I still pick at everything. I have scars all over my upper arms that I try my best to cover. I don’t get scrapped as much as I did as a kid, but I pick at any wounds I might get. Burns are the most common now and they scar really bad. I cover them with bandages, but of course, that stunts the healing process and just causes more issues. But it’s better than me tearing open a blister with my fingernails.
Now I pick at the skin on my fingers. I take a straight pin and run it under my nails, straightening my smile line and pull out the skin that’s shed under my nail. I bite and rip at my cuticles. When I can do so in private, I cut off the rough skin around my fingers. Sometimes I take one of my pocket knives and run the blade over calluses, breaking them just enough so I can get my nails at the skin. Sometimes I’ll run a knife up and down my legs, the blade nearly parallel to my leg, and dust off dry skin.
Most of the time I’m careful and I’ve only ever drawn blood a couple times. But looking at tough or peeling skin builds up such a strong anxiety and I can’t wait to get home and do the whole process over and over.
Sometimes painting my nails can help, Ivan pick at the polish instead of my actual skin. Or of course, putting glue or liquid latex and peeling it back. But that will always just be a substitute.
It’s not as destructive as other things I can do. But sometimes I scare myself by how strong the urge is

Last updated June 01, 2018