Depression Talk

My dear friend Joomy is doing a bit on bad habits lately, and I’ve been reading on with glee. I’m full of bad habits. I’m surprised she hasn’t done an entire exposee on yours truly just yet. To be honest, I’m a little hurt. I partake in ALL the habits that are bad.

Of all the people I know who bite their nails, I probably take it to the extreme level. I’ve only met one or two people in this life who are worse nail biters than I am. I have a special gift for being able to chew my hands into bloody, scabby messes without noticing until the next time I deal with anything that might hurt when it is pressed into an open wound. You know, those things like air or water or milkhouse acid. Whatever you have handy.

This is not an image of my own nails, but quite often this is what my hands look like. Only, of course, my hands are freakishly huger and more manly. Because I have huge, giant man hands.

All the better to beat you to a pulp with if you make fun of them, my Dear.

At any rate, this is one of my quirks that people have a hard time dealing with, one of the outward signs of my insanity that is hard to cover up from people because, you know, my hands and my mouth are usually visible to the public when I’m being all upright and conscious and stuff like that.

I chew when things aren’t right. I chew when there is too much in my mind, when I’m concentrating on any sort of task, and when anxiety overtakes me so that I can no longer think without having brain matter start to pour out my ears.

I have other quirks that relate to socks and the arrangement of socks and how my candles are dealt with; oh, and of course there is how my beer is poured, how many steps there are from any one given location to another, and how many tiles are on the cielings of every room I have ever been in.

But we’re not focused on those habits right now. We’re focused on nail biting. I usually call it hand chewing, because with me it goes a little further than nail biting.

Right. Focus on the hand chewing.

I’m focused on NEVER GIVING IT UP because, for God’s sake, I need to have SOMETHING to do with my spare time.

All eighteen minutes a day of it.