Since I was about 8 years old I've picked at scabs or sores, mostly on my arms; I've got some pretty big scarred areas on both hands and forearms now. I'll basically pick open a pimple or blemish or whatever and keep it "open" for weeks or months by picking at it. Funny how my parents never worried about it much, other than always telling me to stop. They never questioned why I couldn't stop.

I find that picking calms my anxiety like nothing else can. Music works well enough in a pinch, but when I'm alone in bed at night and my mind won't stop racing I really have to pick in order to calm down -- otherwise I'll be up for hours, worrying myself into a frenzy. I mean I've always got insomnia, but not being able to pick makes it worse.

I've managed to stop picking entirely two different times in my life, though neither lasted for more than a few years. Both times I stopped on my own, mostly with sheer will coupled with some really embarrassing memories of random strangers who caught a glimpse of my "spots" and ask what in the world happened, all terrified-like... I hate when people notice.