Day 11 - Dermatillomania: Climbing out of the Internal Prison
9:12 PM
I have been uncovering quite a few insights within my process of re-defining the word 'skin'. I had created a list of word associations to uncover exactly how it was that I had defined and thus lived the word skin. I have moved through all the negative association, and in my last post I looked into the first positive association, The word was 'youthful', and today, the word is 'pretty'.
It’s hard for me to fathom a dermatillomania sufferer think of his or her skin as ‘pretty’, but I have had this experience and made this connection with my own skin. Sometimes I might catch a glance of myself in the mirror, and see myself with makeup on, which makes my skin look clear, and I would be a bit surprised. But the interesting thing is that during times where my skin has been clear, at the point where I start to descend once again into the urges, I noticed that inside of myself I would begin to feel disgusting, as in, gross and vile within myself. It’s the point where I would begin to have emotional sensations of self-loathing and internal agitation, irritation, frustration and anger – a buried deep anger that I felt helpless to resolve. And at these times, during these internal storms, I recall some memories of catching a glance myself in a mirror – with makeup on and clear-looking skin- and it would be shocking: I looked… pretty. Inside I felt like a monster, and on the outside I looked like a care-free girl with no problems in the world.
It’s hard for me to fathom a dermatillomania sufferer think of his or her skin as ‘pretty’, but I have had this experience and made this connection with my own skin. Sometimes I might catch a glance of myself in the mirror, and see myself with makeup on, which makes my skin look clear, and I would be a bit surprised. But the interesting thing is that during times where my skin has been clear, at the point where I start to descend once again into the urges, I noticed that inside of myself I would begin to feel disgusting, as in, gross and vile within myself. It’s the point where I would begin to have emotional sensations of self-loathing and internal agitation, irritation, frustration and anger – a buried deep anger that I felt helpless to resolve. And at these times, during these internal storms, I recall some memories of catching a glance myself in a mirror – with makeup on and clear-looking skin- and it would be shocking: I looked… pretty. Inside I felt like a monster, and on the outside I looked like a care-free girl with no problems in the world.
The weird thing is that I felt like that
wasn’t me; I didn’t have that as my
internal experience; I desperately wanted that to be real and to be me, but it
wasn’t, and I would eventually pick, and probe, and squeeze, and scratch, and
pull, and pluck. And after all that, I would look in the mirror, blotchy and
cut up, and with this spiteful gratitude I would think, “yes, this
is who I really am, this is a true
expression of how I really feel; this is not a mask, it’s the real me; I have
this, I am this, and this best represent who and how I have been and become
within myself.” Wow, scary stuff – but I have to ‘go there’ so to speak, or
else it won’t change.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge
my skin and myself as ‘pretty’ when seeing a picture presentation of myself in
a mirror or in an image in my mind.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to charge
the thought of experiencing myself as ‘pretty’ with a shockingly positive
energetic charge of emotions of desire, longing and regret.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to want,
need, and desire to be ‘pretty’, to be seen as ‘pretty’, and to see and
experience myself as what I perceive ‘looking/being pretty’ might feel like.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to create
an idea of what it feels like to be ‘pretty’ with ‘pretty, clear skin’, and
then long for the idea I have created in my mind as if it were something I
could have or possess as an experience of myself.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to want to
escape my personal experience, and to do so through imagining other people’s
experiencing and envying them, instead of seeing, realizing and understanding
that it is my own fabrication that I am dealing with, my own ideals and imaginings
that I created, without considering what
other people’s experience might really be
like because I can’t possibly consider the multitudinous dimensions and history
of events any one else has experienced within their own lives – And within
imagining and fantasizing and envying the experiences I can make up in my mind,
I am of course not looking at and facing my real self, and sorting out how I
can work with myself to change myself.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to want to
stop picking my skin from the starting point of desiring the experience of
being pretty, instead of from the starting point of equality and oneness within
myself, treating my physical the way I would want to be treated. Giving to myself
what I need and require fundamentally. Loving and accepting myself
unconditionally– because if I can’t do and give and be these things to/for
myself, I will not be able to do it to/for others for real, I will not be able
to live real dignity and respect, I will not walk amongst others as an equal,
and I will not be able to stand as an example for my children or anyone.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to think,
believe and perceive that when and as I feel irritated, agitated, frustrated
and angry within myself, that the experience is inescapable and will last
forever.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to panic
and fret when and as I begin to feel irritated, frustrated, agitated and angry
within myself, because I don’t want to experience these emotions at all, and so
without thinking, I do whatever I can to escape, and I use skin picking because
it releases some chemical from my brain, into my bloodstream, which soothes and
dulls the intensity of the irritation/frustration/anger/agitation, and it
distracts me so utterly and completely, that I submit my directive principle,
and allow a disorder to form and take-over.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear
feeling irritated/angry/agitated/frustrated.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to think,
believe and perceive that when I begin to feel
irritated/angry/agitated/frustrated, that it will last forever and I will not be able to make
it through, instead of seeing, realizing and understanding that it is an
internal experience that I create, and it is not bigger or more powerful than
me.
I will continue in my next blog.
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