I've decided to attempt to break my habit of nail-biting. This is a long note, but if you know my writing, you know that despite how long-winded it may seem, it's all relevant. Also, there are some gross parts about the nailbiting, so if you can't handle it, don't read it.
Some background: I have a lot of anxiety problems. I've been seeing a therapist for a little more than a year now and I'm not ashamed to say it. Originally I went to see her because I was at the peak of my back pain and had some sort-of-near-suicidal moments. I'm not a big fan of dying, so I decided to start talking through my pain issues. Through some miracle, natural growth, or just because a third epidural was the correct number/dose, I've gotten past the worst of the injury. As the physical pain lessened, so did my contemplation of killing my physical body. However, there have always been issues with my anxiety, which I had heard off/on in my past, but never really thought about until I decided to think about them.
Anxiety is a normal feeling. You feel it when you're stressed, when the project due date is coming up and your printer ran out of black ink, when a loved one is sick, etc. Anxiety is there to let you know that something is wrong. However, sometimes synapses in the brain and nerves and stuff misfire or fire too often with too much of one chemical or not enough of another (I used to know this stuff, but alas, I threw away my Psych A notes from last year. Stupid mistake, but ah well) or something. Basically, everyone's body is different and sometimes it seems like biology has just majorly effed up.
In my case, I feel anxiety every day, all the time. And when there comes a situation in which it's normal for anyone to feel anxious (pop quiz on the one homework you didn't do, finding out you have one of the toughest teachers in the school for English, finding out you don't have enough memory on your laptop for the program required for that Honors/AP course, etc) I panic. My body completely freezes, or I pace. Sometimes it's more of a fight/flight situation. Sometimes I lash out angrily. Most of the time I break down into tears and hide. When it comes to anxiety, I'm a coward. I end up unable to concentrate. It's like being in a nightmare when you've only got a split second to read something, but the words keep jumping around. It's like trying to run away from something, but only able to go in slow motion or running through pudding. It's like desperately trying to see, but your eyes are glued shut. Nightmarish sensations that I experience when I have a panic attack. I wouldn't mind panic attacks normally, but I consider it to be a good week if I've only had one or two panic attacks, and I consider it to be a great week if I haven't had any.
I bet you're wondering, "Gosh, Katie, you're such a good student and I never knew this about you! How are you able to handle it and not break down in school?" Let's just say that if I hadn't been recruited for Marching Band I probably would have done exponentially well in Drama Club. I've put on this act for pretty much seventeen years. When I was younger, I grew to learn that crying during school = not cool, not a grownup thing to do. So I suffered through my average anxiety at school, hid it, let it build up, and then when I got home the geysers would burst. That's how it is today. My anxiety just builds up and if it doesn't explode when I get home one day, it explodes a few days later.
I think one of the reasons I don't have a panic attack every day is because I've learned some semi-harmful ways to deal with anxiety. Scratching at bug bites and cuts is one method, but my main one is nailbiting. No, not just nailbiting; I tend to bite the cuticles and around the edge of the nail on my fingertips. I've been doing this all my life. I can't remember not doing it.
Here's where I'm branching away from the anxiety thing for a while.
So I've always bitten my nails. And people have always told me that I should stop. "Don't you want to have long, pretty nails?" And then my grandmother saying, "You should stop, because if your nails are bad, it'll make a bad impression, especially if you do secretary work. I used to be a secretary and I bit my nails, and I had to hand papers to people. I felt so self-conscious and it was difficult for me to stop, but I did and I was so proud." Then there's the famous, "Ew, nailbiting is so gross. Do you even understand where your hands have been? And you put your fingers in your MOUTH!? You disgusting, vile creature!" Okay, so the last statement is a wee bit exaggerated, but you get my point.
My therapist only brought up my nailbiting once, but she was kinder and less judgmental about it. She was more concerned with how much my fingers looked like they hurt and encouraged me to regularly put neosporin stuff on my fingers. Not necessarily with bandages, but just to put the product on and kind of show my fingers that they can be cared for.
This summer my grandmother suggested a nail product for me to try, and she said, "With this stuff, you can't bite your nails." So a force field would come up and prevent my teeth from making contact with my nails? Sweet! "You can't bite them, because this stuff is poisonous." Oh. Should have known.I bite my nails unconsciously, so poison would just make it bad, because I'd be unconsciously poinsoning myself, or at least have the risk of it. Since I mentioned I'm not a fan of dying, I turned down her offer for the product.
On Sunday night, I thought to myself, "Is this habit really so bad that I need to resort to poison to make myself quit?" And then I applied nail polish. I've tried to quit by using polish before, and it never worked because I ended up chewing or scraping it off. But this time was different. I have willpower. I conquered two of my biggest fears this past spring, all in the span of two days, and I turned out fine. I can do anything. I just need to believe.
So today is the sixth day I've gone without biting my nails. Sure, I've had to reapply the polish every night because I keep scraping it off, but I haven't bitten.
But this isn't necessarily a good or bad thing.
I went to my therapy appointment on the third day, feeling all proud of myself, but then my therapist asked me, "What made you decide to stop biting your nails?"
See, with Andrea, my therapist, I can't give a bullshit reason. She sees through it because that's what therapists, counselors, and psychologists do. This time I couldn't immediately give any reason. I mentioned how it was a gross habit, but I only thought of that because people told me it was a gross habit. Then I mentioned how everyone wanted me to quit. But that had nothing to do with what I wanted.
I'm only quitting because other people have been pressuring me to all my life.
I've been biting because it curbed some of the anxiety. And curbing some is better than curbing nothing when it comes to my anxiety and me.
I've been quitting for the wrong reasons. But instead of saying, "I'm removing the polish and going back to biting" I'm changing my reason.
Like my decision not to die when I suffered the torture of a Catch-22 sleep cycle/back pain conundrum thing, I've decided to stop biting for this reason: curiosity. I wonder how it'll turn out. Will I prefer not-biting to biting? Will longer nails be sensory-friendly? Will I go on for a few months, see my long nails, suddenly think, "You know what? Screw it" and then go back to biting? Maybe I'll just barely avoid causing a permanent finger/mouth injury that would have come with a few more months of biting. I have no clue. But I'm curious.
Curiosity killed the cat.
But satisfaction brought him back.
Back. Back.
Things happen for a reason, but if you want to change something, you just need to exert enough willpower. Willpower is there for a reason too. But don't ever change because someone else tells you to. Do it because you want to.
That's my spiel. And I apologize for any simple spelling errors. I started writing this when I was awake, but I guess I started to fall asleep. And, as usual, my ending statement is less than amazing. Whatevs. I'm off to fix my spellcheck now...
Aaaaaand that entire note was posted from Facebook. I felt like putting it here because, despite the fact that nobody reads this, it seemed like a perfectly good Gaia-esque writing-style kind of thing. So I'll end with my Gaia-esque ending.
This is Horse lady, Katie, cowering behind her computer in irrational fear but feeling somewhat okay because at least she acknowledges it (which is always the first step to solving a problem!) signing out. And doing her homework.
Katie Sea Community Member 
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