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I am now 17 years old. I've been picking for as long as I can remember. It started with scabs anywhere on my body, I would continue to re-pick them until they became scars. My parents noticed and they would yell at me; thus began the art of hiding my growing compulsion. Then puberty hit, and so did the acne. The sad thing is I've never actually had bad acne. I just never knew any better. I saw bumbs on my skin and I picked them. The white puss that would come out pleased me. It was satisfying. But a few months later, my habit progressed to my back; and later my chest. I picked at my back the worst because I could hid it. Even at the beach my long hair concealed the evidence. It was all so easy. That's until my obsession got worse. I wasn't picking at obvious bumbs anymore. I was scanning my face inches from the mirror looking for any imperfection. I would twist my body so I could look upclose to my back as well. I would spend hours in the bathroom. And I had no problem with it, removing all the foreign gunk from my skin was all so satisfying. But soon I began to notice the redness left behind after a session infront of the mirror. The scabs, the scars, the open wounds, and the indented lines from where i used my nails. I became horrified. Makeup was an easy solution. I began to wear makup in the 7th grade. And lots of it. I can only imagine now how I looked. 13 year old me slobbing on foundation where ever my face wasnt perfect. I still remember one day in math class when a boy came up to me and said "I can see your makeup". But everthing was still okay, cause in my head I didn't have a problem. I liked picking. I would literally wake up, pick my face, put on makeup, go to school, come home, pick my face, take a shower, and put on makeup. I wouldnt even let my own parents see my bare face. I couldn't tell you how many times I washed my face a day. Now that I look back, if only I had wanted to stop; I could have fixed my routine and my face would have cleared up no problem. The scars would of been long faded by now. Here I am now. Still picking. Ive wanted to stop now for a couple years. I couldn't take how I felt about my appearence any more and I knew stopping was the answer. But it's so hard. I began to reseach a year ago and this site make me realize in not alone. It also made me realize just how hard it is to stop picking. The last thing I want is to be 25 or 30 and still destroying my body. The good thing is Im better now. Im not 100% but I have stopped picking at my back and chest. My face is my biggest problem. I cant go a week without touching it. And a couple days ago after my face looked so good, I destroyed it. This is by far the worst one yet, and Im going to have bad scars. But I have help now. I finally told my parents about a month ago and I told my boyfriend yesterday. They were all so reasuring and helpful. The thing is, they dont find it as weird and disgusting as I thought they would. And I feel better now that I can talk to people. Im going to start behavioral therapy soon and im looking forward to it. I also hope to see a dermatologist soon to help revive my complexion. But therapy comes first. The problem isnt my face, its me. The way I think needs to get help first. I believe I will stop picking. I dont want to be depressed anymore and I want to feel like I can do anything whenever I want and not be locked in the house after a bad day. This is my life, and I cant waste it on this.