It’s embarrassing, painful, and has affected my relationships and self-esteem

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This is tough to write about. I have spent over 30 years trying to hide the condition I have dealt with and now I am about to tell the world. My goal in writing about this is to hopefully reach others that struggle with the same thing. If you do, you are not alone.

Perhaps you may have it but maybe you didn’t even know it had a name, I didn’t until fairly recently. I won’t be surprised at all if most of you reading this have never heard of it, since less than 5% of the population have it, according to The TLC Foundation for Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors.

What is excoriation disorder and dermatillomania?

Well, to put it simply, it is obsessive-compulsive skin picking. Excoriation refers to the physical picking itself and dermatillomania is the psychological OCD aspect of it, meaning it’s done obsessively and compulsively over a period of time.

For me, it’s been my whole life. It’s gross, it’s embarrassing, and it’s painful. People suffering from this may pick from anywhere on the body, for me it is my fingers and lips and usually small imperfections like pimples, sometimes moles, on my face and neck.

Of course, there are times when the skin on my fingers and lips look untouched and pristine, no one would ever know. These are moments when I make sure to notice and feel really proud of myself. However, I know it’s only a matter of time before I find the one tiny piece of rough skin and go at it, often without realization, until I am physically in pain and bleeding. I’m so used to it at this point.

If I had a nickel for the number of Band-Aids I have used in my life, I would be rolling in it.

Usually when I have an “episode,” it’s easy to reach for band-aids and cover the ones on my fingers, but I can’t really do much when it comes to my lips. I will say I have become quite a connoisseur of thick hand creams, lip balms and pigmented, long-lasting lipsticks that can cover any redness or scabbing.

It’s effects, physically and mentally

This condition has affected me in so many ways but more recently it has really taken a toll on my overall self-esteem and intimacy with my husband. He is well aware of it and tries to bring my attention to it when he sees it. However, most of the time I still try to hide it with band-aids and long sleeves that cover my hands.

That often is not enough and I physically feel the searing pain when he grabs my hand to hold it and I either grin and bear it or pull away. This has obviously affected us in other areas of our relationship because when I can barely even move my fingers, oftentimes I can’t even bend them before agonizing, gut-wrenching pain takes over and my fingers and hands are rendered useless.

Same issues with the lips. When I’ve really gone at it, which is more times than not, it becomes so painful to even kiss and in public I am reluctant to do so because I don’t want my layers and layers of lip color removed to show the damage underneath.

Most recently, my five-year-old son has taken notice. He sees the band-aids on my fingers often and always asks what happened. I usually tell him I cut myself accidentally or “just have a scrape.” He has such a caring and empathetic heart, he usually celebrates when he doesn’t see any band-aids there are and often exclaims, “Yay mommy, you’re all better!”

He doesn’t seem to notice it’s a recurring thing and I have no idea how to even explain the real issue to him, I mean, he’s only five! But, it kills me to lie to him all the time.

Luckily on the public front, I work from home and I am naturally a homebody and introvert, so I don’t go out into the world often. You would think perhaps if I were forced to go out into the world, it may lessen the episodes, however, I can tell you it does not.

I’ve only been working from home close to four years now and prior to that, I was going into an office and interacting with others more often than not. I didn’t do it any less, in fact, the stress and anxiety only amplified when I showed up to work with multiple band-aids and colleagues would ask about them. Or, my lipstick wore off throughout the day and my red, bruised and scabbed lips showed through. Not a very professional appearance.

Living a few states away from all family has also allowed me to continue hiding it from those I have known the longest. No one in my family knows about it and I can prepare in advance for yearly visits and control it during those times.

Is there a treatment?

Well for this, like most other obsessive-compulsive disorders, there’s really only Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) or Habit Reversal Therapy. According to Mental Health America, antidepressants may help reduce obsessive and compulsive thoughts.

Because of the immense embarrassment and often feeling like “it’s not THAT big of a deal,” I have been taking the self-help route. I have read quite a bit about CBT and I try to recognize when I start picking and consciously stop it in the moment. I have also been trying meditation and mindfulness practices so that I am more aware when I have the obsessive thoughts and actions.

I’ll be honest it’s hard for me to wrap my head around taking antidepressants for this because honestly, I don’t feel depressed. I feel like it’s a bit extreme to take a serious medication for something that can be cognitively controlled over time with practice and mindfulness. Although, I do understand and appreciate this may, and I’m sure does, help some of those with these conditions.

I am very thankful that I have never gotten a serious infection or caused any disfiguration. Only minor scarring in some areas.

Even as I finish writing this, I am looking down at two red, rough, partially scabbed thumbs. With the holidays coming up and knowing I will see family soon, I will continue doing what I have always done and control it to prepare for interacting with others. Having the physical signs and associated pain would cause so much embarrassment and discomfort, it’s a good motivator to curb the habit as much as I can.

After that, however, only time will tell. For now, I take one day at a time and hope to be better the next day.