Guess who else has OCD and a feet picking problem?

The Queen herself.

See people? Socks don’t make a difference…unless they’re made of iron and have padlocks on them before you can  take them off. But then, I guess it would be difficult to find shoes to fit over these socks. And, of course, the socks would be quite heavy too. Anyway, you get my drift, yah? Socks are NOT going to stop a feet picker!

The bottoms of Queenie’s feet look WAY better than mine. I ask her about it later and she tells me that her feet are back to normal. I guess she still has the urge to itch them. Maybe there’s still hope ahead. I still have one more foot to go…but it’s itching me like a mother f@#$%r!

-Jane, Niece of Recovering Foot Picker.

Still, my right foot is being mashochistically punished every few days because I’ll pick, limp, wait for skin to grow back, itch, pick again, repeat over and over and over again.

Dick looks at me today and says:

“Is this going to be a permanent problem?”

(Admittedly, he’s right. Ugh. Is it?)

We’re at dinner, eating out for once because I’m too tired and lazy to cook today. Gourmet brick oven baked pizza.

The sun is setting and the weather is a perfect, spring, lightly breezing, 70s night.

While we’re waiting for our food, we’re playing HANGMAN.

You know, where you guess the letters (like Wheel of Fortune) and every letter you guess incorrectly, you start to accumulate body parts that eventually will become a person, who eventually will get hanged if you can’t guess the word or words on time. Talk about stress!

Would YOU be able to save someone, prior to being hanged, when this poor, innocent soul’s fate is littering hanging upon your ability and acumen in guessing the correct letters that will help you solve the problem??? Kinda violent come to think of it as I’m writing this.

Sorry, I digress. So, he’s like,

“Is this going to be a permanent problem? You’re like limping all the time now. I’m going to have to get you those…those…old people shoe’s…you know for walking…for your feet…”

I put him out of his misery for not being able to come up with the right word…

“You mean ORTHOPEDIC shoes?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Those.”

I act like I’m going to punch him in the stomach.

Then, I look over at the next table. What do I see?

The very same shoes he’s talking about. ORTHOPEDICS.

(If you look closely, it looks like she’s wearing nude ANKLE SOCKS that have slipped halfway down her foot. Why do old people love nude ankle socks and knee highs? And this goes for women AND men! I can’t stand pantyhose. It makes my feet all slippery, which makes it incredibly difficult, in already difficult-to-maneuver, 3-4 inch heels!)

“Yes! Those are the ones! I’m going to get you THOSE!”

Whatevs. Not this Jane’s style! I’m gonna fix my problem. Just taking my time.

-Jane, NON-WEARER OF ORTHOPEDICS. Ever.

-Jane, Ped-Egger.

 My feet are just now starting to heal from a really bad peeling last week. They were bleeding and I could hardly walk without looking totally gimpy. In particular my right foot started to swell, was red, and hurt the worst it’s ever hurt. I  was really fearful that I may have gangrene. Ok, so maybe I’m being a bit of a drama queen. They weren’t green but they were red and swollen so I thought they may be infected. Luckily, my foot healed and I don’t have gangrene. But my foot is itching for me to start picking it again. I’m not sure how long I can last this time but again, this is only getting worse.

Dick is totally unsympathetic thinking this is just a crazy habit. He doesn’t realize that I have the 3-letter disorder, OCD!

-Jane, Itching to Peel

Ok, here goes…I’ve been debating whether or not I should talk about this truly disgusting and embarrassing personal habit of mine…FEET PICKING. I know, gross ey??? This is dfficult to admit and publicize but I didn’t want my blog to be only about beautiful and happy things.  I’m hoping this blog will help shed light on a problem that I think, I’m not the only one to have. I’m also hoping it will help force me to overcome my problem now that I’ve told everyone about it. What started out as a harmless little nit pick has now turned into a debilitating, unstoppable habit that’d I’ve had for three years now. Three years!! Omg, it’s hard to believe.

I did a google search on this crazy addiction and am finding out that there is a name for my disorder! DERMATILLOMANIA! Armadillo what? Apparently it is a form of OCD perfectionism. Perfectionist? Ok, not surprising. I’m an ah-tist dah-ling, what can I say? To admit that I have a 3-letter acronym disorder, OCD, that’s a hard pill to swallow but it make sense… OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE BEHAVIOR. 

What does picking feet have to do with perfectionism? Well, when I would touch my feet and if I felt any unevenness, I would pull off skin to try to make it smooth and perfect. In the beginning, it worked because my skin was still soft and I wouldn’t do it often. However now, any unevenness at all and I pull off bits of skin, often in long layers,  until my feet are bleeding. It’s so hard to resist and becomes a vicious cycle because it will NEVER become smooth like a baby’s butt if I’m constantly picking at it. I can’t even hardly walk properly sometimes, often walking with a gimpy limp or on my tippy toes to avoid the pain of walking on my heels. I know what you’re thinking…she’s crazy! You are absolutely right, I am crazy! It is a crazy, sick form of self mutilation. (Geez that sounds bad, but it is what it is.)

Dick is totally disgusted by my behavior, as well he should be. He is especially disgusted at seeing the bits of dried up skin that are remnants and evidence of my self-mutilation. He doesn’t understand why I do this to myself. Frankly, I don’t understand it either. It’s just something that is difficult to control.

Honestly, if I could just even stop for a week, it doesn’t take long for the skin to heal. But, it’s almost like I need an intervention. I have tried to stop but it’s not so easy and at most, I can spend maybe a day without picking. Obviously, to keep from picking, the skin needs to be smooth. So, pumice stone in hand, I try to smooth my feet in the shower and it works, but only if my feet don’t already have open cuts otherwise it hurts like a mother!

I have also resorted to trying the highly advertised PED EGG. I was hoping this thing would be my savior, end my misery, and solve all my feet-picking problems. This little contraption shaped like an egg is like a mini-cheese grater for your feet. Sounds enticing doesn’t it? The Ped Egg somewhat works by making your feet a little smoother but you are still sometimes left with cracked and lifted skin, which only entices you to pick at them more. Once you pull up one piece of skin, it’s starts off an unstoppable chain reaction. You then start pulling and pulling until you’re bleeding, you’re raw skin is exposed, and you can’t take the pain anymore. So for the perfectionist, Ped Egg does not leave it perfect enough to keep you from picking at it. It only assists in curbing your appetite to peel even more, like if you’re getting ready to pick, take out your Ped Egg and start grating away!

The powdery stuff on the left is the skin that has been sloughed off by your Ped Egg skin-grater.

When I am able to let my feet heal so that I can actually walk like a normal human being, the skin is like plastic. It’s shiny, tough, and calloused over. It’s smooth but because I have extremely dry skin, it doesn’t take long before a piece of skin is out of place and then here we go again! 

So, the current state of my feet is that they are plasticized, bleeding, dry, uneven, burning from the pain of exposed skin but still looking somewhat normal to the unassuming eye. Most people aren’t looking at my feet when they see me and my jeans cover them well enough. Even if I’m wearing a skirt or dress, no one really notices, which I think contributes to my problem. Because no one really does notice my dreadful feet, I am able to continue my loathsome habit. Once I’ve picked my feet to the point that they are bleeding, it takes about 2-3 days until I can probably walk without them hurting. Amazingly enough, skin grows back fairly quickly.  

So how does one end up having such a disorder? I have absolutely no clue but maybe me pouring glue on my hands, letting them dry, and then trying to peel off the glue in big layers as a kid was a hint of the destruction that was to come. (Admit it, you know you loved to do it too.) Or, using those paraffin wax dips where you dip your hands in hot molten wax, let them dry, and peel off the dried wax glove forms of your hands. Omg, fun! Or peeling off those clear face masks, trying hard to keep in all in one piece. Ok, ok, I’m sick! Are these signs of a future feet picker??? Parents, be forewarned! 

Now that ‘ve exposed myself and my ugly compulsiveness, I am hopeful that I am able to overcome this insanity and am determined this time to rid myself of this self-mutilation and walk normally on a permanent basis. So, pray for me…I’m going to need it.

For more information on feet picking and Dermatillomania,  click HERE.

Pics of my feet? It is hard enough to reveal this ghastly habit so I cannot even fathom posting pics. Baby steps.

Do you know anyone who is a feet picker? Picker in general? I’m finding that we all have a little OCD in us. (At least that’s what I’m telling myself to make me feel better.) Some of us more extreme than others. 

-Jane, Ashamed Feet Picker