The Article That May Explain Why I Needed So Many Band-Aids Growing Up
I remember when I was younger, I was always in need of a Band-Aid to put on any of my fingers. Eventually my mom would have to buy Band-Aids all the time.
A few years later I needed a Band-Aid and went up to my mom and asked her for one. She told me, “You filled your quota of Band-Aids when you were 5.” On the outside I laughed it off, but inside I felt ashamed and confused… I’ve always considered myself clumsy, but was I really that bad that I needed so many Band-Aids?
Fast forward to last year. My younger brother tagged me in a Facebook post. Its title was: “When I Realized the’Bad Habit’ I lived with for Nearly 20 Years is a Disorder.” I felt slightly taken aback but relieved at the same time.
“It has a name, I’m not alone, I’m not weird,” I thought to myself. Years of judgmental looks and comments about my fingers, and picking my scabs and nails came flooding back, and tears filled my eyes. I felt relieved and confused at the same time. “Do I have it?” I wondered. “Is that why I’ve never had my hands and nails so neat and tidy like my sister or my friends?”
I’ve known for a long time that I am very anxious but never realized picking my skin was a consequence of it, and I don’t know for sure (I’m not diagnosed by a specialist) that I have dermatillomania, but my scars and fingers are clear signs.
I know one thing: I no longer feel alone. I feel hope and safety.
So, thank you, Erin Casey. Your story reached to a confused and lonely person in Guatemala.
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Thinkstock photo by Antonio_Diaz