Brain Spew in Lieu of Wit

Okay, so I have a really  gross habit   neurosis  coping mechanism?  I'm not really sure what to call it. I pick at my skin.  It'll start with a hang nail or acne, and will eventually start to bleed, which will eventually become a scab, which will not heal for months  because I can't leave it well enough alone.  I know that it's awful and gross and potentially dangerous.  I already have scars from it.  My cuticles are destroyed because of it.  I've gotten countless minor infections on my fingers because I pick and chew on the skin around my nails.  Beloved points it out every time he sees me do it, one of my girlfriends has offered make me a behavior plan to change it, friends and lovers are always telling me to "stop picking at it!"  And yet, I can't bring myself to, despite the embarrassment, frustration, and problems. I didn't always pick at my skin and scabs.  I taught myself not to bite my nails in 4th grade.  I once had the will of the gods

I really want to open with "I'm in a strange place," but I'm far too well-read not to recognize that my current position isn't an unusual one. These past few weeks have been particularly difficult ones (though, that is good for posting regularly, I suppose), where my anxiety and depression were so overwhelming that I thought that I couldn't function. I did, of course, because that's what I have always done, but it certainly took far more out of me than I had ever allowed myself to be aware of before. On one hand, I think that is a move in a much healthier direction, and after discussing my state of being with Sister, we concluded that I might actually be moving into a more mild state of depression than I am used to...which is both heartening and terrifying. On the one hand, I'm excited that I am becoming healthier and I have a baseline that is "normal" enough that I'm able to recognize when the depressive swing is actually occurring, much