Joanne Robertson Facebook ad: “Read This If ADHD Has You Picking Non-Stop”

Ran for 1 day, from February 21 to February 22, 2026, the last day Crush saw it.
Run by Joanne Robertson on Facebook. Crush is not the advertiser and does not verify its claims. See this ad in Meta's Ad Library(opens in a new tab)
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About this ad
- Meta Ad Library ID
- 1794958207814045
- Platforms
- Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, Messenger and Threads
- Relaunches
- 2
Ad text
I spent over a decade thinking I was the only freak who picked her skin because of ADHD since no one around me did this. Not my friends. Not my family. Not anyone I knew. Just me. I remember being a teenager, sitting in the bathroom, looking at my bloody fingers and thinking "What is wrong with me? Why do I do this? Nobody else does this." I never told anyone. How could I? They'd think I was insane. So I hid it. For decades. Long sleeves. Excuses. Lies about how I got the scars. And when I'm stressed? It gets 10x worse. Which only made me feel more like a freak. I genuinely believed there was something deeply wrong with me. Like I was just born defective. I couldn't talk to anyone about it. I couldn't Google it because I didn't even know there was a name for it. I just thought it was my weird, disgusting secret that I'd have to carry forever. My family thought it was just a "bad habit." My mom used to say "Just stop doing that, it's gross." She didn't understand. Nobody did. I started to believe them. Maybe I was just gross. Maybe I was just weak. Maybe I was just too undisciplined to stop doing something so simple. My breaking point was at a doctor's appointment. She was looking at my arms during a routine checkup and her face changed. "I have to ask... are you using any substances?" She thought I was on drugs. Meth. Crack. Something. I just stared at her. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream "I'M NOT A DRUG ADDICT, I JUST CAN'T STOP PICKING MY SKIN." But I didn't. I just sat there, humiliated, and said "No, I just... pick at my skin sometimes." She gave me that look. You know the one. The "okay sure" look. I walked out of that office feeling more defective than ever. The world saw me as a junkie when all I was is a woman who couldn't stop picking her skin. That's when I finally called a psychiatrist. Dr. April Chen. "I can squeeze you in Saturday at 2:45." I told her everything. The years of hiding. The loneliness. The shame of thinking I was the only one. I told her about all the things I'd already tried. The fidget toys. The acrylics. The pimple patches. The therapy. None of it worked. She didn't look at me like I was a freak. She didn't ask if I was on drugs. She grabbed a pen and started sketching something on her notepad. "It's not that you lack self-control and willpower. Your brain is starving." --- I remember staring at her like she had three heads. "Starving? What do you mean starving?" She put the pen down and looked at me. "You know how picking actually calms you down? Like how it's your little form of self-soothing?" I froze on the spot. I was here to meet a psychiatrist and might've gotten a mind reader instead. "That's because it does. You're not making that up. Your brain found a way to soothe itself and it's not random." She started explaining. "Women with ADHD have way less dopamine than most people. Think of dopamine as the thing that makes your brain feel okay, calm, and satisfied. When it's low? Your brain gets desperate. It starts hunting for anything that delivers it. When you're stressed or anxious? It drops even lower. So the hunt gets even more desperate. And picking? Picking delivers. Big time. It floods your brain with dopamine AND endorphins at the same time. Endorphins are your body's natural painkillers. That 'ahhh finally' relief feeling. Which is why you won't stop even though you know it's self harming. Picking makes you feel calm AND relieved at the same time. Your brain found the most efficient source of what it's been starving for. So it locked on. Hard. This isn't a character flaw. This isn't weakness. It's your ADHD." "But why me? Why don't my friends do this? Why don't I know anyone else who picks their skin like I do?" She looked at me with something that felt like compassion. "You're not alone. There are millions of women with ADHD who do exactly what you do. They're just hiding it too." I felt my eyes start to water. "Now let me explain why it feels impossible to stop picking." She pointed to the sketch on her notepad. "There's a pump in your brain called System Xc-. Its job? Keep your brakes working. The brakes are what help you stop doing things you know you shouldn't. This pump needs fuel to work and runs on something called cystine. However, your pump has been SEVERELY damaged. Every time you pick, you damage that pump a little more. The more you pick, the worse the pump gets. The worse the pump gets, the weaker the brakes. The weaker the brakes, the harder it is to stop. The harder it is to stop, the more you pick. So now you're stuck in a loop. And round and round it goes." She drew a little sled on the notepad. "Think of it like a sled going downhill. The urge is gravity here which pulls you toward picking. And there are no brakes on a sled so once you start sliding? You can't stop until you hit the bottom. That 'gravity' is actually a signal in your brain called glutamate that screams at you PICK PICK PICK. It fires the hardest when you're stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed. I'm sure you've noticed you pick MUCH more when your emotions are up there. When the pump is starving, the brakes don't activate. So the PICK signal just absolutely floods your mind which is why you can't resist the urges, ever. You're not a freak. You're not defective. You're not alone. You just have a pump that's been starving your whole life and brakes that never worked." Everything clicked. That's why I've been doing this since I was a teenager. That's why I thought I was the only one. That's why doctors looked at me like I was a drug addict. My brakes weren't working. They were never going to work. I looked at her and asked the obvious question. "So everything I already tried…" She didn't sugarcoat it. "The fidget toys? They don't feed the pump. They just give your hands something else to do while the urge keeps screaming. The acrylics? They don't feed the pump. They block your fingers but the urge is still there, clawing at you from the inside. The pimple patches? They don't feed the pump. They cover the spot but the second you peel it off? You're right back at it. Therapy? It helps you understand WHY you pick. But understanding doesn't give your pump fuel. Willpower? You can't stop a sled with no brakes by digging your heels in harder. None of them were ever going to work. None of them have the right parts to install brakes on the sled." I sat there realizing I'd wasted years and THOUSANDS of dollars on things that were never going to work. And spent all that time thinking I was defective when I was never defective to begin with. "So what actually works? Please Dr. Chen, I just want to feel normal. I'm so tired of feeling like a freak." She paused. "The truth is... the women who actually get better? They're the ones who feed the pump directly. As I mentioned earlier, your pump is starving for cystine which is the fuel that enables it to work. When the pump gets fuel, the brakes come back online and the urge to pick? Good as dead. Not with more placebos like before, but with real brain nutrition. However..." I was going to lose my mind. "I'm sorry to inform you that you can't just swallow cystine and expect it to work. Your brain has a protective wall called the blood-brain barrier. It's very picky about what it lets through. And cystine? It doesn't have a pass. It gets blocked at the gate. So it never reaches the pump. You're going to need something that CAN get through and convert into cystine once it's inside." --- I left Dr. Chen's office that day with one goal. As soon as I got home, I fell down the Google rabbit hole. It was pretty obvious by now what I needed was a consumable supplement. Most supplements I found were trash. Nearly all of them didn't even mention the blood-brain barrier. Let alone converting to cystine. I was starting to really hate research, and my butt was sore. (REALLY SORE) Then on a Reddit thread about ADHD and skin picking (you know the ones, where women actually tell the truth) I saw dozens of women raving about something called Lyra. Dozens of women. Just like me. Who had been hiding the same secret for years. I wasn't alone. I was never alone. I checked how it worked against what Dr. Chen told me. Holy crap. It was exactly what she described. Lyra contains an amino acid called N-Acetyl Cysteine or rather NAC for short. NAC actually bypasses the blood-brain barrier because it's membrane-permeable. (Fancy word for "can slip through walls on its own") Meaning it doesn't need a transporter like cystine does. Once it's inside your brain? It converts into cystine. The exact fuel the pump has been starving for. $49 seemed insultingly cheap for something that could help me finally feel normal. Considering I'd already spent: $400 on fidget toys that collected dust $300 on acrylics every month for over a year $200 on pimple patches $1,500 on therapy that "helped me understand" but didn't stop anything Plus decades of thinking I was defective when I never was What's another $49? A few days later, it showed up at my door. Three small capsules. Every morning. That's it. The NAC slips past the barrier. Converts to cystine. Pump gets fed. Brakes come back online. And the urge to pick that made you feel like a freak your whole life? Finally quiets down. Day 1: Nothing really happened but I didn't expect anything anyway. Day 3: The urges felt a little quieter but I honestly wasn't sure if it was just placebo messing with my head. Day 5: Something weird happened while I was watching TV. I caught my hand going toward my face and I just... stopped. Not with willpower either, it just stopped on its own. Day 8: I went a whole day without picking and I actually cried that night. Not because I was sad. Because for the first time in my life, I felt normal. Day 11: My face started healing, like actually healing. No new wounds to cover up in the morning. Day 15: I went to a doctor's appointment. She looked at my arms. No weird looks. No drug questions. Just a normal checkup. Day 21: I told my sister about the picking. For the first time ever. She didn't look at me like I was a freak. She said her coworker does it too. I wasn't alone. I was never alone. And it's not just me. In a clinical study published in JAMA Psychiatry, women on NAC were over twice as likely to see major improvement. And if it doesn't work? Lyra states on their site that every customer is entitled to a 30-day money back guarantee (I've personally never had to use) So either it works and you finally get to feel like a normal person instead of a defective freak... Or you get every penny back. If you're tired of feeling like you're the only one, here's the easiest way to start. Try Lyra Now: https://trylyra.co/products/lyra-true-calm-supplement-90-capsules P.S. I spent decades thinking I was defective. A freak. The only person on earth who did this. Turns out I was never alone. And neither are you. You're not defective. Your brain just needed the right fuel. Check it out → https://trylyra.co/products/lyra-true-calm-supplement-90-capsules
Where the ad sends people
trylyra.co
Read This If ADHD Has You Picking Non-Stop 👆
Lyra
Learn more: trylyra.co(opens in a new tab)









