My name is Lana and this is my story.

I started "picking" when I was in sixth grade. I can't even remember why I even started. I guess things were hard at home because of domestic problems. My mom abused me as a child and my parents were having major marital problems. Anyway I think I remember sitting in class one day and feeling alone. I never had many friends growing up. I just lifted my hand to my mouth and began to gnaw away at the skin on my knuckles. It started with the knuckle on the middle finger of my hand. That was about seven years ago. Now all of my fingers except one have been destroyed.

I was in band at the time. When my band director went to my counselor and asked her to come to me and ask me about it. Of course I lied to her and told her I had smashed it in a car door. By the time people had started to notice I was in eight grade and I had began picking the knuckles of my other fingers on the same hand. When I finally made friends and they noticed I lied again and said "I smashed it in a car door." Everyone believed me the first time I told them my lie. I knew it wouldn't work forever and I knew it would not be long before I had to tell them the truth. I don't think I was honest with anyone about it until freshman year. My summer of freshman year I changed a lot...I greatly came out of my shell and began to wear makeup and dress nice. I got a handle on the stress in my life, but even with my new look on life I still could not stop picking. It was no longer a necessity but an addiction.

I don't really remember who I told first but I can surely remember the amount of relief I felt when I told someone the truth. Sophomore year is the first time I remember hearing about "cutting." I knew right away I suffered from a similar problem and I did not feel so alone. Well by this time seven out of ten fingers had all been turned pink and dry by my own hand.

By senior year all of my friends knew about it and they accepted it as part of me and part of who I am. They love me for me and not what I do. Now all of my fingers but my ring finger on my left hand. The only finger I have that has somewhat healed was the pinky finger on my left hand. I guess I never took enough off that one to cause any permanent damage. Unfortunately the problem had spread even further now. I began picking the bottom of my feet and the balls of my thumbs. I may never stop. But at least I know I am not alone.