Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Sushi bands V self-mutilation

I've put elastic bands from a sushi boxes on my wrists. I always know they're there because the sensation is not pleasant (but not painful).

But it takes my mind off picking at my face and if I feel the need to do something at my body I can rub the bands against my stomach. All that is at risk are wrist hairs and I can take bare wrists over a gouged face any day.

So far this technique is holding—it's been a day since I had a go at my face. 

I cried on the weekend as I confessed my failure as my wife gently trimmed my nails back then cleaned them so I wouldn't as much traction when I picked. She told me to forgive myself. 

A psych once suggested the elastic band thing—but to have it there to snap against your wrist if you had a bad thought to snap you out of that moment. So I've modified the advice to constant presence of light discomfort combined with gentle uncomfortable rubbing instead of an instant instance of deeper self-mortification.

I feel like I'm in Opus Dei but without the religion and magical box at the end of it (1). 

(1) Seriously, heaven is a thousand miles across box. It's in Revelations, people!

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