I pick at blemishes on my face.
Rarely does a pimple last more than a day on my mug.
I attack it. And then I start to pick at anything. I become obsessed with ridding my flesh of the toxins beneath the skin. Every clogged pore becomes an enemy to my squeezing fingertips.
I make my epidermis red and blotchy. I damage healthy tissue in the irrational attack of my face. And every time, I am angry at myself afterwards.
It is one of those patterns that I am very aware of, but I still have trouble stopping.
It is such an obvious form of self sabotage�yet I do it to myself almost weekly.
And every time I do, there is a several day �reminder window� where I can see the results of my lameness every time I look in the mirror. My inner ugliness can be seen externally in my blemished reflection.
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