A Time for Rigorous Honesty

Posted on January 29, 2010

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I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t come to this. That the obsessive compulsive behavior I’ve started participating in would just fade away over time, that I’d be able to stop what I’ve started doing and just relax. My hopes in talking about it here is that I put it out in the public and will be able to control myself. I’m making a conscious effort to stop this shit and am adding an additional prayer to my nightly regiment.

I can’t stop fucking with my face.

When I first got sober, I quit taking birth control because it was an unnecessary expense and unlike the virgin mary I cannot get pregnant if I’m not having sex. Being that I’ve been on ortho tri cyclen since I was 15 I’ve never had a problem with my skin. Occasionally I’d get a “blemish” or an “impurity” as the lady I used to get facials from would call it, such a nicer sound than zit or acne, but I never had a problem with breakouts or anything like that. It took months for my body to adjust, expected after years of taking a drug to help my skin problems, but a few months ago I started having problems with the quality of my skin. And being a woman prone to obsessive and compulsive unhealthy behaviors, I started fucking with my face. It’s gotten kind of out of control, no, totally out of control, and now I touch my face without even realizing it. I can intellectualize the consequences, but it doesn’t seem to stop me.

I know I can do permanent damage.

I know it just spreads dirt around and makes things worse.

I know I’m not fixing anything when I look in the mirror.

I know. I know. I know.

But I just can’t seem to stop.

This year is dedicated to being healthy, to living a healthy lifestyle and participating in healthy behaviors. Sobriety, healthier eating habits, exercise, all that shit. So this week, today especially, I’ve decided to take serious steps to stop. Aside from asking for the obsession to be removed from me, I’ve also cut all my nails down as short as they can be and will keep them there until further notice. I’ve thrown away every picking tool I’ve bought over the years, it just hurts me in the end. I’m forbidding myself from getting closer than 3 feet in any mirror (there is absolutely no reason I need to be 2 inches from that thing anyway). If I need to start carrying things in my purse to hold in my hands to keep them busy, I’ll do that. But I can’t keep doing what I’m doing. I started taking birth control again, but the problem isn’t my skin, it’s my obsessive compulsive behavior. It’s not good for me and it makes me look like I’m using. I hope writing this helps. Because as of now it’s been a secret, except of course from Deezy, Angel, and anybody who’s seen my skin without makeup recently. And I don’t want to be a sick little secret.

Another step I’m taking in my recovery, something Jill has been telling me to do for a while now, is to start meeting more women. I need more women in my life. I have some serious abandonment issues regarding women due to the relationship with my mother, and looking around the regular Thursday night meeting, which was nearly a mens stag, I realized I’ve surrounded myself with men even in sobriety. I’ve always had a ton of guy friends, always prided myself on being the chick that guys will get along with. So I’m tossing all my old meetings out the window and going to women’s meetings from now on. I’m only keeping one of my regular haunts, and that’s because my girlfriends there outweigh the guys. Jill has tried to get me to go to more women’s since I started going, and I never wanted to. Now, I can’t help but feel like the best thing for me to do is what I so adamantly am against doing. There is no reason that I shouldn’t have girlfriends. Period.

Tomorrow I’m mailing out paintings, finding a ladies meeting, and staying the fuck away from the mirror. If this post doesn’t help, I may start putting cloths over the mirrors. Or wearing gloves. I just don’t know what else to do.

Side note, and response to the question about Shelly Lubben… Pink Cross is not my deal. I disagree with the anti porn crusade. I have nothing negative to say about Shelly or porn, I just don’t jive with what she’s doing and don’t want to be a pornstar anymore. If it helps girls, good. If not, and it’s just helping her, that’s fine too. But it’s not my thing.

Additional Side note, if anybody has overcome a compulsive face touching/picking thing, and has any advice please comment. I don’t need comments telling me how I’m going to fuck myself up… I’m well aware every time I look in the mirror. Helpful advice on how to stop would be nice… I’m. A. Wreck.

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Posted in: Good Days