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What’s in someone’s pants is none of your concern (◡‿◡✿)
Who’s been in someone’s pants is none of your concern (◕‿◕✿)
How someone identifies themselves is none of your concern (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
If someone is genderfluid it’s none of your concern ( ʘ ▽ ʘ )ノ
If someone changes their gender back it’s none of your concern (●ʘ∀ʘ●)
Leave people the fuck alone and mind your own business (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧*:・゚✧.
(via asexualeducation)
TW: Dematillomania, Skin Picking, Self Harm, Gross Imagery
I’ve suffered from Dermatillomania (or compulsive skin picking) since I was around eleven. It’s funny, because most of the compliments I get on tumblr and irl revolve around how “beautiful” and “clean” my skin appears.
I cannot even begin to fathom how many hours I have spent in my bathroom picking, poking, and pinching at my back, chest and forehead. Whenever I felt stressed, depressed or anxious, instead of cutting (another compulsion of mine, but one I’ve thankfully never acted on) I’d lock myself in and go over ever each of my skin, looking for something new to pick at, or going over old wounds.It always felt like I was falling into some sort of trance. I’d forget/soothe my current troubles by “cleansing” my skin of any “imperfections”. It didn’t matter that it left my back scarred or my face red and puffy. All that mattered was that sickening thrill I’d get from getting all the puss (I REALLY tried to think of another word here, sorry folks, I know how gross it sounds) from under my skin.
In retrospect, it didn’t help that I read Beauty by Brian D’amanto when I was like 10 (there’s a whole section that likens zits to maggots under one’s skin) or the fact that my mother encouraged this behaviour by sitting behind me on the couch and picking at any black heads I couldn’t reach. That being said, I’ve worked really hard at getting over my compulsion. I might pick once every other week now instead of every day. I avoid mirrors/bathrooms if I’m feeling stressed. I have my boything pinch my arm when he catches me stark to pick. Most importantly, whenever I find myself absently picking, I look at myself in the nearest mirror and tell myself that I am beautiful regardless of the zits. I repeat “You don’t need to do this” in my head until I believe it.
I’ve actually never talked about this with anyone but my shrink. I think that might be part of the problem. This isn’t something I need be ashamed of. It’s a problem many people have and one that we can all hopefully overcome. I’m sending good vibes to everyone else out there who feels the need to pick at themselves in the mirror. We can beat this! And if you can’t, than just know that you are not alone.Love this <3 keep at it girl :)
(via diaryofaskinpicker)
The thought process
- ugh this scab
- ugh i want it off
- ugh surface area is getting bigger
- ugh what if i put a bandaid on
- ugh what if i put it on after i pick
- ugh i want it off
- ugh its off now it stings
- ugh why’d i do that
- shoud’ve put on that bandaid…..
(via diaryofaskinpicker)
(via deflowering-souls)
(via deflowering-souls)
(via deflowering-souls)
Rough skins.
oh man. This is really dumb… But this reminds me of what my skin looks and feels like to me. I also love trees more than I guess other people would, and seeing one like this just makes me feel better somehow. Like it’s not really ugly.
(via hootowlforlife)
(via deflowering-souls)