Nail Biting

Yesterday I bit all of my nails off. They were really long aswell. Dammit.

They are so sore. And to think I used to do this all of the time until they bled. Blood and puss would come out of my nails and fingers!

I have not indulged in any finger munching this time, just the nails.

I regret it. I feel like an idiot. It was difficult to stop. Hello OCD.

It all started when I noticed that a nail had broken. And I tried to file it with my teeth. Yup, “I’m not biting my nails – I’m filing them with my teeth!”… Riiiiiiight.

SO, now I have a new project. Yay. We love projects. Project Nail-Growing.

Yes, the completely natural process of growing nails is indeed a project for me.

The struggle is real!!!

The reward though is worth it. Peeling stuff. Picking stuff. Ooh picking scabs. What else ummmmmmmm Oh yeah, scratching… Painting. Idk looking pretty?! Opening a can of beer with no pain / hassle is surely tops the reward list.

I’ve been biting my nails since I can remember.

When I was a child my father and step mother made me wear gloves because I bit my nails. It was a punishment and a deterrent. At first they gave me a plastic pair of gloves but they made my hands super sweaty and itch. I hated it. I complained. So then I had to wear material gloves. Or it was the other way around, I’m uncertain. Either way. Whatever.

I was around 10 years old, maybe older.

It was so humiliating. But they seemed to enjoy laughing at me. She did anyway, the mega bitch.

The gloves didn’t last long. I protested too much, probably did their heads in. But my neighbourhood friend saw me wearing them though. She probably asked why I was wearing them and the mega bitch would have been like,  “Go on tell her, tell her why you have got to wear those gloves…”

Just to humiliate me even more.

I didn’t actually have to wear those gloves though, did I. It was their stupid rules. Not much democracy in that house growing up. We didn’t have a say. We didn’t get a choice. Totally the opposite of how I am with my own daughter. Growing up in that house is probably why.

Did the gloves work? Of course they didn’t.

Another time they bought me some ‘Stop n Grow’ – a bitter tasting nail varnish. It worked at first but I got used to the taste and still bit my nails.

My father bites his nails terribly, so does my brother. My sister used to but now she grows them. I think she still nibbles them though. My mother used to bite her nails when I was a child.

How comes my father never wore gloves to stop biting his nails?

Nail Biting is an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Even when I am growing my nails the urge to bite them never goes away.

It’s the same urge that I have when I binge eat. Something that I realised recently that I do. I get the feel good factor, and then feel awful. Shame and regret. I’ve just asked my occupational therapist for help for that. Nobody takes you seriously when you ask for help with biting your nails though! I asked once and his reaction and crappy advice was enough to make me not ask again.

Oh well. Here we go again. Round 607.

The Saga continues!





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