Haven't been doing well lately, but I did stock up a little on first aid supplies. My leg wounds have been cleansed with alcohol, coated with antibacterial ointment, and securely wrapped with sterile, cushy gauze. :)) (now to get it to STAY that way...)

haven't been doing well at all lately. some wounds are starting to get infected because i've run out of dressings for them. i'm going to walmart when i wake up to stock up on first aid supplies, but it's really an expense i'd rather avoid. it's just so hard to stop. i want to, but i can't. :s it's less itchy lately, but i've done so much damage to the skin and surrounding tissue that it hurts if someone just lightly pats my leg (like my mother did earlier and i had to do my best not to cringe). i thought that keeping track of it in a blog would help me stop, make me more aware. i think the awareness is just hurting. because i'm more aware of the wounds now, and have a stronger urge to pick them. -sigh, facedesk-

So I have good news and bad news. The good news is I made it through the ENTIRE night last night without picking. I felt pretty proud/accomplished. But then I slipped up. I had a somewhat stressful evening and I was itching sooooo bad...At least it's not idle. I know when I'm doing it, I'm aware. Which is a step in the right direction, right? Also, I got some gauze rolls! yay!

That problem with the tape? Solved. But first let me admit I picked last night. The itching was too much and I couldn't stop myself. I picked to make it stop itching (the cortizone cream didn't help much...obviously). But I felt like an idiot when I realized rolled gauze could solve my itchy tape problem. However, since I didn't have any, I taped my gauze pads together and made some. The itchyness is very low tonight, though at work the itching was barely tolerable at one point. I did have a fight with the bf either before or after - I'm trying really hard to remember which - and I'm starting to wonder if the level of itchyness is related to my stress level. It'll be interesting to observe this now that it's been brought to my attention. Here's hoping I don't pick tonight!

trial and error

Ace bandage came off quickly- too hot and itchy. I scratched like I shouldn't've but then your favorite retarded blogger realized her nightstand drawer contained some cortizone cream, which has hence been applied to areas irritated by the cheap-ass medical tape that I bought. I need to find a way to stick gauze pads to my leg without irritating the skin to the point where I rip off bandages. :s Right now, I wish someone DID read this. I need suggestions and help. :(

dealing with a stressful day

Work was okay, though I was pretty tired from all my picking shenanigans last night, and having so much trouble trying to fall asleep afterward. The drive home was nuts. I was probably more stressed than I'd been in a lonnnng time. Drivers are assholes, man. Everyone thinks your car can accelerate just as fast as theirs, even if theirs was made in the 2000's and yours was made in fucking 1995. And oh- you need to get over to exit? All I have to do is slow down a tiny bit? Okay, let me speed up so you miss your exit and have to drive around lost in bad parts of town on less than a quarter of a tank. Grah. Sorry about that. Like anybody with a blog, I'm gonna get sidetracked sometimes. Back to the disorder. I picked my face on the way to work, which upset me. I tried to stop, but one hand was on the wheel and the other was on that blackhead on my chin. Since it's my special "ladies' time," I get to have a face full of zits for a week. I also caught myself picking a few minutes ago when I had just washed my face. And I'm trying a new tactic today. Since by now my bandages usually itch so much I can't take it and I rip it off and go nuts, I decided to take my bandages off and put an ace bandage on; it's less constrictive than gauze and tape, but pads my wounds, and reminds me not to scratch. It's a little hot and itchy, and I'd like to let my leg breathe, but I'd rather keep it safe. So far the urge to pick is low, but the part where the tape was irritating my skin is incredibly itchy. I made sure to cover that part with the ace bandage. If I pick tonight, you'll be the second to know.

Just finished picking. FML. I woke up with a full bladder and relieved myself, and once I laid down again, the itching started. I tried to fight it, but it got so intense I couldn't help myself and I ended up ripping off the bandages and scratching, then picking. I decided to make myself pick less I'd use tweezers to pull out any hairs whose follicles resided in my wounds, which I must say, was extremely satisfying, and less harmful to me. One of the reasons I start picking is ingrown hairs, so I feel like I'm preventing that when I tweeze them out of the wounds - it keeps scabs from forming over them and forcing them to stay in. God...I have to work today, the morning shift - means I have to wake up at 8. Or I would, if I wasn't already awake. This shit really needs to stop. It's taking such a toll on me. At least blogging about it makes me more aware...ugh. I'm going to try and catch some more z's before 8. Thank God for Mtn. Dew. It'll be my saviour today.

Ok so here goes nothing. I'd have to say it cropped up- or rather, became noticeable - not long after I'd forced myself to stop cutting, with the help of drugs and therapy. The self-awareness that the therapy engendered probably helped me realize it could be a problem. It was small at first, but then I realized I was picking my cuticles till they bled and people stared. And my dentist was wondering what the hell happened to the inside of my cheeks and lips (I nibble at the dead skin, ever since the scars from braces several years ago left the insides of my cheeks and lips bumpy). Not to mention I'd always picked at the acne on my face. But all those things, really, I'd done for years. Then I started to pick my arms and legs. Once the picking of my face migrated to my arms, it was worse. I had more trouble covering it up (wearing makeup on your arms???). Of course, winter was always welcome. Long sleeves were great. I rarely pick my cuticles till they bleed, now, and the same goes for my face (my complexion has cleared a lot since I've stopped touching my face so much. Neutrogena helped, too). I have to give my mom big props, because she helped me notice when I'm picking. Through social and internal, self-image pressure, I managed to greatly reduce picking everywhere, now. My face, my arms, my cuticles...Well, sometimes I still accidentally go too far on my cuticles and make myself bleed, but it's a lot better than having my fingers look like I put them all in a pencil sharpener. (...It bothers me that I can't indent my paragraphs...) The real problem now, though, is my leg. Yes, "leg," and not "legs." Why? I have my suppositions. The primary reason is probably the ease of access. I can reach the area I pick from almost any sitting position I'm in, especially my favored sidesaddle-esque position. It's odd, though. I'm right-handed, but I tend to pick with my left hand. (I bet it's the right side of my brain getting revenge because I never do anything creative. haha) But the picking of my leg is becoming a huge problem for me. At first it was just a couple sores, but now it's a myriad. I don't even bother with individual band-aids now because there's so many. I just wrap my leg in gauze, which also keeps me from picking the band-aids off or going underneath them and scratching. I bleed, I get infections, I scar. I can't go swimming or wear pretty sundresses or skirts (unless I wear tights). I slip up sometimes and someone will see the gauze taped halfway up my leg and say "oh gosh, what happened to your leg??" or the checkout person at walmart goes "what's all the first aid stuff for? you planning on hurting someone?" ...What do you say to that? I mean, the answer to both of those is "Me." It takes me at least 10 extra minutes to get ready to go anywhere nowadays because I have to bandage up my leg. I tried going to work one day without bandages and I almost rang a customer up with blood on my hand because I couldn't help but pick. Scabs are the worst. I NEED to pick them. I have to. I don't understand why, I just do. I know nothing bad will happen if I don't pick them, but..... And it's beginning to put a dent in my bank account. All the gauze, the medical tape, the ointments... I try to keep the area ever-covered, but I'll slip up. Some days it'll itch so much that I just have to take the bandage off and scratch, or if I forget to dress the wounds, I'll find myself picking and bleeding. Not to mention I'm afraid it will affect my sex life soon. A shitton of gauze on your girlfriend's leg isn't generally considered hot. And showers together are out, now, too. It didn't used to be this bad. It just keeps getting progressively worse... And who do I tell about it? Bf's got enough on his plate, and so does my bestie. My parents would worry too much, so I guess that's why I'm blogging it. Anonymity is my friend; if anyone on here (like anyone will read this) finds out who I am... what if I knew them? I'd be ashamed. I know it's a disorder and it's not my fault, not anything to be ashamed of, et cetera. But I can't help feeling like it is. I do this to myself. I wish I didn't, but I do. I'm not super religious and anybody who knows me knows I'm not much for organized religion, but I've even tried prayer: "God please give me the strength to stop doing this to myself." I just feel...alone in this fight.

Intro

Let me first acknowledge that I'm reasonably sure no one wants to hear me whine, especially over the internet. This blog is for me, to help me organize the thoughts in my head. I don't care if you read it, and if you benefit from it, fantastic, if you can think of ways to help me, even better. If you have any problems with what I post, just stop reading; don't bitch to me about it. To quote Jane Austen, "save your breath to cool your porridge." Also, as a warning, there will be profanity in my blog, especially when I am particularly frustrated or upset. So I guess that's it then! Time for my first real post.