Pickings

Posted on September 16, 2002 in OCD

Something’s eating me. The evidence is on my fingers, three of them in particular. The two index fingers and the left thumb. There are these spots there on each where I pick at the skin using my finger nails and my teeth. Ever hear of [[trichotillomania]]? ((Skin picking is called [[dematillomania]].)) People with this disorder pull out their hair. They keep at the harvest until small bald patches crop up. They can cover them with the unplucked remainder for a time, but after a while, the urge begins to show itself.

I don’t have trichotillomania. I do this thing to my fingers instead. The spots I choose are all old scars, places where I cut myself or developed a blister. It’s nothing spectacular. I’ve never whittled the skin down to the bone. Sooner or later, I pull off a little too much and open a wound. Then I stop myself. I chew on the inner corners of my lower lip or pick at my navel or at this spot on my chin which is well covered by my beard. I leave the hair alone.

I figure something’s eating me and I am taking out little pieces of surface flesh to propitiate it. This is the price I pay for being silent about something, I suppose. Now I need to sit awhile until I know what needs to be spoken.

UPDATED: 6/14/2011