"Daddy, you need to stop picking."
So said Keisha tonight as she looked at the scabs on my legs and arm. My daughter now realizes that I have a problem with self-injury.
Jennie asked me Sunday night about how I've been feeling because she's noticed I've been picking my scabs a lot more frequently of late. It took awhile for me to get there, mostly because I didn't really know. I finally concluded that I've been picking my scabs as a way to deal with the emotional stress I've been feeling with respect to the other, circumstantial stressors in my life.
I talked to the psychiatrist about this, and I believe that I pick the scabs because it's something I can control, whereas I feel that so much else in my life is out of control. I cannot control/fix my wife's health, nor can I fix my daughter's bladder problems. I have no immediate fix for our financial woes either.
I can control opening the scabs. I can take care of the bleeding and apply antiseptic and so forth. Seeing the blood provides a bit of relief from the emotional stress.