I'm thirty years old, and for the better part of my life, I've given in to a habit that as at times amused me, soothed me and embarassed me. I pick at my fingers with a vengeance. Most of the time, it doesn't hurt, but sometimes it bleeds. Even when it doesn't do that, I sometimes find myself in the awkward position of having a wad of skin in my hands that I don't know what to do with. Throw it in the floor? What if someone sees me?
Then there's the aesthetic damage. I've often been told that I have pretty hands, and I'll agree. They're long and thin with well-shaped nailbeds that make it look like I have long nails even when I don't. So why do I waste one of the all-too-few physical attributes that I'm actually proud of?
I've. Got. To stop. I hope this blog will help me do that by keeping me accountable to anyone who lays eyes on it. I'm on a nail polish kick, so I can use this to post my latest manicure. I'll also be BRUTALLY honest by showing the damage I can do to my skin when I give in to my habit/compulsion. I hope you'll help me out by commenting: Yell at me when I falter, compliment me when I manage to keep my fingers healthy and healed.
Here goes, hopefully, SOMETHING!