I was researching on the Google today - because that's what I do sometimes - about my finger chewing. Or, more specifically, my inability to stop chewing on my fingers (and the inside of my mouth) until I am both sore, bloody and somewhat embarrassed by the appearance of my ground beef looking fingertips. Seriously. It's so gross. And it's a cesspool for infection, so I'm not sure why I'm so inclined to just bite bite bite away. But bite I do. And a lot. In the wintertime, it's particularly bad because my skin is naturally dry and as a nurse (even a semi-nurse) - I wash my hands 100 times a day and so my skin starts to flake and - well - the OCD sinks in and all hell breaks loose. At any given time, I could have 4-5 bandaids on. At once. I'm dead serious. I've probably used up an entire box of bandaids at my work and I've only been there a few months. I guess you can say what I lack in salary, I've made up for in free first-aid supplies. It's so bizarre, yet so stupid. Hey.. Like Britany Spears!

I talked to the shrink at my job (and I've discussed this to some extent with my actual shrink, although she is usually more focused on my 'regular' problems like my inability to make life decisions and my lack of motivation and self esteem - both topics that would bore you to death and make for a craptastic blog that you'd never, ever want to read again lest you go screaming from the room thanking God you're not me). Anyway - where was I? Oh, yes - the shrink at my work. Who actually is a nurse practitioner - true story - told me that he hears about this disorder all the time. That it's in the same category as trichotillomania. For those of you who don't know (and it's probably none of you since I think no one reads my blogs anyhow) - trichotillomania is the anxiety disorder of which people pull their hair out, strand by strand. Till they're bald. That's in the same category as my "disorder". Disorder. Just what I need. Another mental health diagnosis. My Axis 20-whatever will be 'finger chewing'. Lovely. He also told me I should have my prozac prescription increased. Sigh. I don't want that really. Maybe I could just start drinking heavily. Or I could eat more sweets and stuff. Cause that'd be good for me and my thighs.

I do need to stop though. Putting my fingers into my mouth 100 times a day is a horrible, dirty habit. I mean - you should see some of the people I am with throughout the day. Their hygiene is questionable; some of them have all sorts of cootie-like diseases.... and I'm giving injections and such. I mean, it seriously isn't healthy for me. Yet, I chew and chew a lot. I've been doing this for YEARS. I just cannot quit it. My husband (genius that he is) states "just don't chew on them". Wow. What insight. You should be a therapist. Cause if it were that easy, I certainly would have tried to NOT BITE years ago. Or when all my fingers were throbbing. Or even the 100 times I've eaten anything remotely spicy only to have the sauce/pepper/old bay go into my open raw fingertips and cause me all sorts of problems. YES - that's it! I will just not bite! Genius.....this coming from the same person who tells me (when I talk about losing weight) "just don't eat as much". I'm telling ya. He should write some self-help novels. They could be called 'stating the obvious' by James "Not So" Bright. I digress...

Not that the web was a plethora of useful information on quitting either, mind you. I found all the usuals (Cognitive Behavior Therapy - tried it) and also the no-nail-biting-tastes-like-ass solution that you can put on your skin. I'd do that, but I'd be reapplying it at least 100 times a day. I'd go batty and broke. (well, MORE batty and MORE broke, anyway). You get my point, I think. One person in a forum for crazy folks, suggested that we all put tight rubber bands on the tips of our fingers as reminders. Uhm, yeah - that might work, until the tips of my bloodless fingers rot and fall off from a lack of oxygen. That would be super! And, in all actuality - that would *in fact* solve the problem as I'd have no more fingers on which to feast. I'd only have small nubs. Or perhaps no fingers at all. How on Earth would I even type this blog? You'd be forced to go back to the old thing you did to waste time online - midget porn.

OK. I've gotten a bit carried away... probably as the result of typing up this blog piece by piece over the course of two days. My thoughts aren't fluid. And my brain is near-mush. But I wanted to at least see if you - oh clever blog reader - had any ideas on stopping my horrid, distasteful habit. If you do, feel free to share. That's what this blog is all about. Sharing ideas and being repulsed at how incredibly insane I am.

Seemed like a good way to end, but it was sorta abrupt. I apologize.