More Snow, Please.

An experiment…

I noticed a few posts about inositol. I did a little research on the supplement, and it’s all very interesting stuff. I am interested to see if  it works for anyone.

I got to thinking, and I was wondering if I could trick my brain into thinking my body is receiving a supplement that will help. I know if I took inositol, it probably wouldn’t work for me. I am highly skeptical of it right off the bat, and everything I’ve tried to help myself with this disorder has led to dismal failure (in my eyes). Right now I am the most aware I have ever been of this, and I am the most determined to stop. I have been sending myself on a roller coaster ride of shit and emotion, and I’m more than ready to get my working brain back.

So I think I am going to try to fool myself. It’s going to be interesting because I already know that I’m going to fool myself. But being as the problem is mental, I can only imagine it can be fixed mentally. I wasn’t always a compulsive skin picker. So I have to be able to not be again.

So I am going to tell myself and believe that I am receiving supplements, or medicine, or that something I eat every day is slowly curing me.

*shrug*

What else is really left to try?

Was doing well…

And still am… Better than I have been, for sure. I’m ready to take on the next level of crazy, I think.

I let myself have at my face for a while last night. One spot. Just raw meat now. It’ll heal in a couple of days. My face has been breaking out. Not really, but I notice more bumps when it’s hot and I sweat and my makeup clogs my pores. I want to be able to not wear makeup at all. I am almost done with this current compact and I refuse to buy another. So before I run out, I need to quit picking my face.

It’s getting pretty warm. Blarg.

Scary weekend…

I took B’s advice. I just started ignoring the urges. Here and there, I’ll pick. But I don’t let myself get caught up for hours at a time. When I’m with him, he’ll nudge me, or shoot me a look and I’ll stop. I get frustrated. I get moody. I react like a child. But he keeps at it, and I love him for it.

We got into some heated shit this weekend. It took him a good three days to finally understand how bad I was withdrawing, and how emotional I am when I don’t have an outlet for my frustrations.

I spent some time in the bed crying, on the bathroom floor crying—pulling at my hair and clothes, and in his arms crying.

I’ve been cleaning the garage to get rid of the fucked up energy. I’m sanding the workbench up there so I have a place to work on some jewelry and art.

My biceps are getting impressive. :P

I also took out my nose ring. I feel like I’ve outgrown it. No one noticed. So I don’t miss it.

He said, “You just have to stop and deal with the withdrawal.”

So I did. And he’s spent the last 24 hours telling me how bitchy I’m being. Fucking DUH!

I want to tear my skin off. I get it now.

Cuck Framps.