Why do healing wounds itch?? What's the point of that??? To slow down the healing process via fingernail?

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❤️Stick(ers) with love❤️

🎨🦋A Welcome Home fan fic🌸🐛

Summary: Wally wants to hang out with his friends on a warm summer day, but he worries over picking the pilings off his fleece skin

Word count: 1,396 words

Characters involved: Wally Darling, Home, Julie Joyful, Frank Frankly, Howdy Pillar

Contents:

Dermatillomania (portrayed via fabric piling and cotton)

Fluff :D

Helping friends

Compulsions

Additional art at end jumpscare lol

Notes: This is my first time putting one of my fan fictions actually out in the world sooo any constructive criticism is appreciated. This is somewhat based on my own experiences with dermatillomania, and honestly I just kind of wanted some kind of outlet to share how I feel about it sometimes :,D

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Wally had woken up a little bit later than usual, but nothing would deter from the smiling summer day that the neighborhood had today. Home opened up one of its windows to let Wally have a nice breath of the morning summer air, and a small wave of heat rushed inside as Wally happily sighed. Crossing his arms over the windowsill, he felt something on his arm that had been unconsciously bothering him for months now. It seemed to have been piling from his fleece skin coming up again for Wally. It didn’t seem to bother Wally for the time being though, but Home was always concerned over Wally picking at the pilings. The piling picking would sometimes go to the point Wally would pick too hard and bits of his cotton insides would peek out.

Home warned through the creaking doors and floorboards for Wally to not pick at his arm this time around if he wanted to go outside with short sleeves today. Home also warned that he would dig too deep into his skin again and ruin his arm; “it’s done enough scarring to your beautiful skin already, Wally” Home creaked, pointing to the very tiny seams Home had to patch for him. Wally didn’t seem to fond of the idea of wearing his cardigan on an already warm day, but he didn’t seem fond of picking at his skin either, so he decided to wear his cardigan over a shorter sleeved white button up. Wally was going out to Howdy’s Place with Julie and Frank for smoothies and milkshakes, so Wally was more than eager to go outside and play.

After showering and preparing his hair, Wally was all dolled up to go and hang out with his friends. Wally stepped outside and waved goodbye to Home before going on his merry way. Although there was a nice breeze every now and then, the summer heat made Wally feel like he’d turn into butter if he didn’t find anything to cool him down. As Wally made his way to Howdy’s Place, he decided the cardigan was too much for him, and wrapped the cardigan around his waist. The summers heat felt so much better on Wally now that he didn’t have his wooly blue cardigan to retain heat.

The bell inside Howdy’s Place’s door gave a nice ring, and Wally stepped inside to see his friends waiting for him. Wally sighed and wiped the droplets of sweat off his forehead before sitting next to Julie. The three got Neapolitan milkshakes, but separate. Wally got a simple strawberry milkshake, Julie got a double chocolate milkshake, and Frank got a plain vanilla milkshake. Julie paid for the trio’s drinks, and thank the stars that Barnaby’s joke lessons are working out finally for her. After Howdy and the trio had quite the laugh from Julie’s jokes, Wally, Frank, and Julie happily enjoyed their milkshakes. While Julie yapped on and on to Frank about her summer plans, Wally once again crossed his arms as he happily enjoyed his milkshake. Whether he was aware of it or not, Wally felt the pilings on his arm again, and started to pick at it.

It didn’t hurt, but at the same time it did. It felt as if Wally was pricking his arm with a somewhat dull sewing needle all over his arm. He wasn’t doing much else while his friends talked and Howdy managed the store, but his focus was still on drinking his milkshake, so why was he picking at his skin? Perhaps it’s a need for perfection. How else was he going to get his arm smooth again from the piling? Wally didn’t feel exactly bad for doing it, but at the same time he did.

“Wally, are you doing alright there?” Frank asked as he looked over to Wally. Blinking from his state of thought, Wally looked back over to Julie and Frank. “Oh, yes! I am doing well.” Wally exclaimed monotonously. Wally uncrossed his arms, but still held onto his one arm that had all the piling, rubbing his thumb against it all. Julie tilted her head to side to take a look, and took note of how Wally rubbing his thumb against his arm. “Is your arm ok Wally? Can I see?” Julie asked curiously. Wally looked to the side in thought, and considering he can’t exactly hide his arm now that Julie’s curious about it. Julie holds her hand out kindly to Wally, and Wally allows Julie to see his arm, continuing to look away reluctantly.

Julie took a closer look at the pilings in an odd sense of curiosity. It seems like rainbow monsters like Julie haven’t been through anything like this before. Frank looked over from where he sat as Wally took back his arm to go back to his milkshake.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of it Wally.” Frank comforted to Wally. Wally looked back up from his milkshake to look at Frank, surprised at the words they had to say. “It’s something that’s compulsive to you, right?”

“Compulsive?” Wally asked as he tilted his head in question.

“Something you tend to do on repeat, regardless of how often you try to control it.” Frank explained calmly.

Wally understanding what the word meant now, he nodded his head a bit sadly, knowing what Frank described fits to Wally’s picking. “Hm…Well, you don’t have to feel sad about it!” Julie exclaimed to Wally.

“I don’t?” Wally asked.

“Not at all! If all that describes something compulsive, then that should mean that Frank and I’s flappy hands are compulsive too!” Julie said excitedly.

Wally and Frank laughed to Julie’s enthusiasm. “Well, you aren’t wrong in that sense Julie, no. Though it’s different to what Wally’s compulsions are, that being his skin picking.” Julie looks to Wally’s arm, then back to Wally.

“Does itttt..hurt whenever you pick at your skin Wally?” Julie asked curiously.

Wally shook his head no.

“It hurts, yes, but it only feels like a pinch every time.” Wally explains in his usual monotonous tone.

Julie tries to get an idea after learning this new information, and spins around on the barstool seat while sipping her milkshake. Glancing at the rack of sticker sheets Howdy has in his shop, the lightbulb flickers in her head with an idea. She quickly got down from her chair, grabbed a sticker pack, and went back to her seat.

“Hey Howdy! How much for the stickers?” Julie asked as she waved the sticker pack in the air.

“One joke per pack, Jules!” Howdy answered.

“….Well, whatdya call a sticker that’s always late?” Julie asked Howdy.

“Hmm, I dunno Jules, what do you call a sticker that’s always late?” Howdy questioned back.

“Stick around! It’ll show up eventually.” Julie answered.

Although it took a couple of seconds for Howdy and Frank to catch on, it was a holler and a half once they got the joke (Wally laughed, but he didn’t quite understand). Howdy wipes a tear from his eye from the laugh and settles down. “Oh boy, alright you won this one Julie. Now, whatdya need those stickers for anyway?” Howdy asked a bit puzzled.

Julie demonstrated by putting a sticker on her face, and slowly peeling it off. “I think that since there’s a little itty bitty bite of hurt whenever Wally picks at his skin, Wally can put these stickers on his arm! That way when he tries to pick at his skin, it won’t hurt as much!” Julie prompted. Wally and Howdy were bedazzled by the idea of using stickers on Wally’s arm to pick at rather than his own skin. “The peeling of the stickers could give the same stimulation Wally gets from digging into his skin to get the pilings off of him! Not a bad idea Julie.” Frank admitted.

Julie gave a little flappy hands to Frank’s approval of the idea, and turned to Wally for a true test of approval.

“What do you think Wally? Does it sound good to you?” Julie asked excitedly.

“That idea sounds like the absolute most! I think we should try it!” Wally said as he gave a happy nod in yes.

Julie jumped in joy as Wally said yes to her idea, and Julie, Frank, and Howdy all helped to cover Wally in as many stickers as he wanted.

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I’ll probably draw some art of the ending too where Howdy, Julie and Frank are putting stickers all over Wally :3

It's not that I don't have hope. I do! Things have gotten better before, and they'll do it again. I believe that.

But my worry is- what if I don't get better?

What if I get into a better living situation,

And I learn more about myself,

And I follow all the instructions on how to get better,

and I don't?

What if I don't get better?

What if I never get better?

What if I can't heal and it's out of reach? Unattainable?

Is it attainable and it will come to me?

Is it attainable but I'm not trying hard enough to get there?

What do I have to do to heal, to recover, to get better?

Can I do anything?

A m I h o p e l e s s ?

I would advise that anyone avoid catching Hand Foot & Mouth Disease but especially if you have dermatillomania

(in the final stage of it all the little pock scars start peeling and it is so, so satisfying and so, SO gross)

((like imagine dried Elmer's glue all over your hand that you can painlessly peel off, that's what it's like))

TW for mentions of dermatillomania/skin picking

A meme I made based on an experience I had last night and have very frequently

scratch scratch scratch scratch pick pick pick

I am working so hard rn on comic, but my focused face looks a little intense.

!!TW!! this post contains mention of Dermatillomania and scars. if you feel uncomfortable reading about these topics, please keep scrumbling.

steering away from my usual content a bit here but

i dont see nearly enough people talking about dermatillomania and how fucking hard it is to live with it. going into the bathroom everyday and looking in the mirror, having to fight the urge to pick at your skin. its horrible, it makes me look horrible and makes me feel really insecure about my appearance. no amount of conealer or makeup can cover up the scabs and bumps in my skin. having scars all over your body and scar tissue that will never behave like normal skin again. having people ask you "what happened, why do you have so many scabs?" and having to awkwardly make up some excuse about mosquito bites. thinking "oh shit, here we go again" when you get a graze or bug bite. being neurodivergent isn't always just shits and giggles, it can be really fucking tiring. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having to put bandaids all over my body, just so i don't pick. I'm tired of having to have my friends hold my hands away from me when i pick. im tired of people not listening to my accomadtions. I'm tired of feeling gross. I'm tired of having people ask why my acnes so bad. I'm tired of acne medication doing fuck all because that's not even the problem in the first place, its the fact that i make the acne worse myself. I'm tired of being told "just don't pick" when its not that simple. I'm just tired of this horrible thing.

Been working real hard on my skin cleansing habits and doing well avoiding having breakouts but the thing is turning out to be that I don't know how to fill the hole not picking my skin is leaving in my heart

Better than leaving holes in my face though ayyo

friends i am not well to say the least

i stayed awake for over 24 hours, then slept for 16 hours, and now i've been awake for over 24 hours again

It's kind of terrifying to list all of your bfrb behaviors. Like, it's one thing to tell yourself "i have a bfrb" or "i struggle with skin picking", but it's another thing to sit down and actually make a list of every way that bfrb(s) affect you. I didn't realize how many ways I was feeding the compulsions until I really starting thinking about it. Yeah, I pick at my acne really badly, I thought, but then i remembered I also pick at my fingers a lot, and I chew at my lips and the inside of my mouth, and sometimes I'll peel my fingernails/toenails off instead of clipping them, and at times I'll tug at my eyelashes....

is it dermatillomania to pick at like just your shoulders and face because like I have so many scars from doing that

.

now that i’m sitting here typing this out, i’m realizing that maybe that is a dumb question

Okay you know what. People with dermatillomania, how have you stopped yourselves?

fuck dermatillomania i am in SO much pain rn i didnt even fucking notice i was doing it im. i hate u my subconscious i hate u i hate u i hate u hhhhhhhhh fuck

lol im not sure my mental and physical health has ever been this bad.

im kinda suicidal again instead of just being numb, empty, and having depersonalization/derealization but I don’t even know who to tell. my friends are probably getting overwhelmed with me/tired of me doing so bad all the time. it’s gotta be a real bummer. can’t tell my family bc they freak out or the complete opposite just tell me it’s gonna be ok. my girlfriend has DID and hasn’t fronted in several days because she’s been having a hard time mentally and physically so one of her alters (who I am not dating) has been in control. this alter doesn’t really talk to me nearly as much as my gf usually does so my bpd (and general shit mental health atm) is having a fucking field day with that. i miss her a lot. Unrelated to her but I don’t sleep or eat enough. my house is disgusting and I can’t get myself to clean it. the stupid lexapro my psych made me try gave me so many fucking side effects and I stopped taking it days ago and I’m still having the worst fucking time. i have so many bruises and scabs from how bad my skin picking has gotten from the medicine. my jaw hurts so bad bc the med made me start clenching it/gritting my teeth all the time now. my teeth feel so weak and sensitive like I’m scared they’re gonna fucking break into pieces when I eat. my acne got worse too but idk if that’s bc of the medicine or bc my hormones are crazy OR bc I’ve been on my period for basically two months at this point. i have sores on my tongue that are painful and overstimulating just to feel and i want to bite them off or something. my wisdom teeth are hurting too. im so tired. I have no excitement. im just detached from life. I’m not enjoying anything. people’s concern for me is not even fucking hitting me like it should be. I’ll be like “I want to kms” and they’ll be like “holy shit I’m worried about you i love you don’t die” and I’m just like “🤷”. it’s very frustrating. everyday feels like a shitty dream. but i never wake up. ive barely even been listening to music. which is fucking wild for me. I just listen to YouTube at work. and it’s mostly like videos on disturbing/scary shit lately. like shit I’ve barely even touched before the last few weeks. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so interested in really fucked up stuff but nothing else hits the same. I guess I subconsciously just wanna feel something. so fear and discomfort is my go-to. I’m always in pain. I have the desire to abuse drugs or drink or SOMETHING to make myself feel better. but I still really don’t even do that. oh yeah and I relapsed twice this week. once wasn’t that bad but the second time was pretty fucking rough. it’s even worse bc I literally broke apart someone’s fucking shaving razor at my friend’s house and used one of the blades. then had to wake my friend up bc the cuts wouldn’t stop bleeding. I need serious help. I don’t want to be hospitalized though. I did that earlier this year and it was a complete waste of time. I wish I could just die. I’m so tired of pushing through this hell. And I can’t help but think “well i guess it could be worse” which is true but also every time I think that something else happens. I want out. Please. I wish I had the fucking balls to kill myself like ive wanted to for the past like 12 years. No one can help me. I can’t even help me. I genuinely don’t know what to do. I take the medicine. I go to therapy. I reach out to loved ones for help. I try to live my life. But it’s not fucking working. I’m so miserable.