I didn't used to know what DSL meant. Now I do. I wish people didn't even look at my lips.
This is what people see when they see my lips. They see the gloss, the color, the usual healthy pink flesh.
What most people in my life do not know about me is that I have dermatillomania. Dermatillomania is an impulse control disorder in which an individual compulsively picks at their skin. It my case, it has mostly affected my lips. I consider myself lucky in the fact that I was not plagued by acne as a teenager, as I never was one to leave my few random pimples in high school alone either.
I remember beginning to pick my lips even before I started school, definitely as far back as I can remember which would be around age 4. When I was in elementary school, I remember specifically the gym teacher telling me to stop picking my lips, to lick them instead so they would stay moisturized. This was horrible advice, and led to me frequently sucking and biting on my lips rather than picking them while I was in front of this particular teacher.
"But why do you pick your lips?" is the question I always get asked.
I pick my lips when:
- I am stressed
- The skin on my bottom lip is not perfectly smooth and flat
- I'm driving
- I'm watching TV
- I'm working on homework
- I'm in a social situation that's making me anxious
- I'm in class and the concept we're discussing is hard
and
- Other completely random times when I don't even realize it at first
Admittedly, I picked at my lips a few times while making this post.
After a picking binge, my lips tend to get dry, hard, scaly. It's embarrassing to go out like this in public, so I always leave my binging for after I've gotten home.
I used to not be able to get through a whole day without picking my lips, and would typically gross at least one of my friends out by letting them bear witness to a particularly gnarly removal of skin. As I got older, I learned to control it, and eventually to do my ritual in private. I also was able to stop picking my top lip completely. Now I am to the point where I am able to go through an entire 12-15 hour day without picking. The first thing I do when I get to my car, however, is go to town on my lips.
Picking my lips at the end of the day is like an alcoholic going home and pouring out a glass of wine. It feels good, it feels routine, but it also is accompanied with a hint of shame. When I pick them to the point that they are bleeding, I often will bite and suck at the bleeding area until it ceases. Then, although I've already aggravated the area, I continue to pick. Once I begin picking, I have to do it until completion. My version of "completion" means that I keep picking until the skin on my bottom lip is entirely smooth. This can be problematic, however, because when I've been picking particularly rough on my lips, they can scab and it becomes difficult to get them smooth.
The shame comes into play when I look in the mirror and I see how horrible my lips look afterward.
All throughout my life, I have found myself being consistently complimented on two things: my eyes and my lips. I still remember a black friend's mother asking me, "What's in your blood, J?" and me responding, "Um, white?" and her laughing and saying, "With those lips, you gotta have something a little more than white!"
The thing about my picking is that I never knew that it was abnormal or anything worthy of placing a term on it. It was my opinion that plenty of people picked at their lips, or their cuticles or what have you. It wasn't until I realized how extensive the damage to my lips was during my sessions that I realized how big of a deal it truly was. I still don't remember exactly how I came across the term, whether I was actively searching for it or not. As soon as I had a name to place to the action, though, I did all kinds of research.
I read stories of those who, like me, had picked their skin for as long as they could remember.
Like any good little positive person, I tried to stop cold turkey. That didn't work, as my fingers found their way to my bottom lip immediately that night when I was watching some particularly mind-numbing TV. I didn't realize my mistake, being a creature of habit, until my lips were sore. Since then, my attempts to quit picking have proven to be fruitless. I've tried distracting myself when I have an urge, I've tried keeping my lips moisturized and I've even tried gloves on my hands. No matter what, though, I usually end up picking at my lips at least once a day. We'll consider this a life-long battle and call it a day.
I can still blow kisses with the best of them. Even with chapped lips.
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