I can't take this any longer. Please help!

Thank you. Every bit of understanding helps me gain my sanity back little by little. The fact that I am a young adult acting with the maturity of a tween eats away at me. Inflicting pain and disfigurment on myself any time I'm faced with hardship or stress. I'm so filled with guilt at the thought of what I'm doing to myself and the people around me. I have an incredible boyfriend who has shown me nothing but support and unwavering commitment, and I still can't stop. Not even for his sake. He deserves so much better than I have given him. He has adopted this lifestyle I've created, a useless and depressing existance that consists of as little human contact as possible. In the ten months we've been dating we've gone out twice, and it hurts so badly to think that the lack of social life we now both have is entirely caused by my picking addiction. He swares he doesnt care, but I see the disappointment he trys to hide at the fact that he has nothing to show for the better part of a year aside from pay stubs. When I first met him I had such high expectations of our relationship and the motivation I was sure it would give me to finally stop picking, but to my horror not a month in I found myself faced with the most dreadful situation. I has plans to see him and my face was in terrible condition, and I knew there was no possible way I would be healed in time. I have given up buying and wearing makeup, as I thought that if I had no way to cover what I'd done than I'd have to stop. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that this didn't work. When I couldnt bring myself to cancel the day came and it was as bad as I feared it would be. He didn't once say anything but I found myself desperately trying to convince him that I suffer from severe excema and that I had a break out and that was the reason for the dry scaly scabs spotted all over my face. To my relief he reacted with sympathy and senerity and assured me that it was nothing to be embarassed about. I have to admit I had never felt comfortable like that before with my face the way it was, not even alone within myself. Unfortunately, his complete acceptance of my imperfections lulled me into a false sense of security and before I knew it I was picking regularily again and continuing the sharade of having excema. A couple months later I was reaching breaking point and finally cracked one evening when he asked me why I seemed so down and out. I told him everything. I cried as I explained that I had a problem with picking my face, and how I didn't and still don't know the reasons why I do it, but that I just couldn't stop, despite the mysery it causes me. He listened intently, and comforted me. He told me not to worry, that everyone has problems and that he would help me in any way he could. For the first time in years I truly felt hopeful that with his help and watchful eye I could gain control over this, and for a while I did. I never stopped completely but never inflicted devestation like I usually did. I felt normal, I would have a blemish here or there and maybe one small scab that I had popped or picked a little but it would heal quickly and leave no scar, For about a month I was truly happy with myself and the normalcy in which I was living my life, then it all changed for the worse. For reasons I can't even remember me and my boyfriend had a terrible fight and he left home to go out with his friends. I was so angry and hurt and and before I realized what I was doing I was infront of the mirror taking my pain out on my face. As I did so many times before, I started out small, telling myself I would just get this one that has been bothering me, but after that one I would seek out another and another after that. I fell into a far to familiar trance and when I finally came out of it, it had been SIX hours and there wasnt a spec of skin on my face that wasnt swollen, red, or even bleeding. Since then I have continued to pick my face despite my boyfriend pleading with me to stop. Slowly but surely my relationship with my boyfriend has become lifeless. He has all but given up on me, and I don't blame him. During my episodes, I am screaming for help internally. It's as if one person controls my hands and another my concious mind. I cannot stop my fingers from reaching my face and yet silently within I am begging and pleading with myself to refrain. When I accept defeat within myself, I begin to pray for help. I see my boyfriend sitting in the next room and I will him to come to my rescue, yet the few times he does now, I snap at him and refuse to accept his help, too ashamed, too hurt, done too much damage already, so whats the point in stopping. Although I believe I have always know this, I have only just recently, truly accepted the fact that I alone have to make the decision and commitment to stop. All the help in the world will not prove successsful if I do not take full responsibility upon myself. I am sick of the tricks and the methods. No more removing mirrors and bandaging my finger tips. No more. Do you believe that it's possible to truly stop? Do you have advice for me on ways to start recovering, both physically and emotionally? Thank you again for responding. It is inspiring to know that there are people like us out there who have beaten the odds, and done that which we have always believed impossible.