NapOwrimo Day 11: Nails

I’m a nail biter.

it’s pretty bad. My teeth are my own personal nail file. I never go to get manicures and just rely on my primal need to bite at them when I am anxious.
I’ve seen my mother do this and it’s given me some relief to think it’s hereditary.

People say it’s gross. To bite your nails. Perhaps because we spend so much time using them to grip at things. Perhaps because it’s so exposed and an open container to dust and grit.

I’m always fascinated with television shows depicting True Crime. The nails seem to be a big indicator of evidence. It shows if someone struggled or fought back. If someone was dragged on a dirt road and trying to clutch for life.
I often think about my cat Anabel who absolutely screams and howls when I try to clip her nails to avoid total destruction of the couch or my other kitties faces.

Or how much joy other women get in painting their nails or toenails. To reflect their mood or match with a certain wardrobe. How it’s an art or a business and puts food on the table for many small businesses.

but for me, my nails or just for anxiety.
when I’m waiting for the doctor,or if my partner is running late and I want to catch a movie on time. If I’m nervous about a certain pending phone call. Or just tapping the table to create drumbeats while I’m bored.
Truth be told I’ve seen some men bite them til they bleed.

And me I stop just when I reach the skin

right before it becomes utterly painful.
well. Maybe after writing this

ill Become more mindful and stop my addiction. Perhaps breathe when I’m anxious. Let my nails grow.
just in case I need them in the wild.