When did your 'bad habits' begin?

I spent 22 years of my life as a nail-biter. My memory of exactly how or when I managed to quit the addiction is a bit hazy, so we’ll call it 22ish years. Actually, come to think of it, my memory of when the bad habit officially began is just as hazy… so maybe we’ll say like 17ish years. Give or take.

Suffice to say, I was a nail-biter for at least half my life, and although the beginning and ending points are far from concrete in my mind, I have all too many painful memories of the disgusting habit. It was always worst during periods of high stress. I remember bite, bite, biting until I was literally gnawing at my own flesh. Two crimson crescent moons constantly framing my nail bed. One at the top, so jagged and painful it impeded everyday tasks like holding a pencil or typing on a keyboard. One at the bottom, a bloody reminder of where my cuticle used to be.

Phasing out of this bad habit was a slow and painstaking process. By the end of college, I had thankfully moved beyond the blood bath into a more sophisticated style of biting. I would take my time, slowly nibbling across the milky white tips, just low enough to banish the temptation. Leaving a nail that almost looked like it was cut with clippers, minus the rough edges. Then came the phase where I would satisfy the burning desire to bite by simply running my teeth under the edge of the nail. Almost like an oral manicure, removing any debris. Yes, I know, it’s disgusting. It makes my stomach turn a loop just typing it, and I was the one who did it.

I went to some extremes in the process of trying to move beyond the biting. Remember that polish that tasted absolutely repulsive, a product targeted specifically at nail-biters? Tried it. If you bite long enough, you get used to the disgusting taste and eventually become immune to it. I even tried wrapping each of my fingertips in bandaids, but even that couldn’t stand in my way for long.

Alas, I somehow moved past it. Maybe even grew out of it? The shame of having your disgusting bad habit on full display for all to see can be a powerful motivator. Although not entirely banished, the bad habit still pokes its ugly head out now and again. Mainly when driving and lost in thought. Anxious about something, probably more so related to life rather than the stress of traffic or road conditions. Almost an absent-minded security blanket of sorts. Thankfully, my addiction to rock climbing has resulted in keeping my nails quite short. Either I do it myself with clippers, or the rock will do it for me. I find that I’m far more gentle than mother nature.

All of these memories came flooding back as I lay next to the 7-year-old I nanny. She’s an anxious little thing. She gets that from her father. I know this because if you look up the definition of ‘cool as a cucumber’ you’ll find a picture of her mother. We had just finished a movie night together, and being the anxiety-filled child she is she insisted that I lay next to her in bed. This is nothing new. So I lay as still as possible and try my hardest to pretend I’m asleep in hopes that she’ll follow suit. Eyes closed, the sound of waves crashing from the sound machine, and that’s when I hear it. The repetitive, and almost immediate anger-inducing sound. I didn’t even realize how much of a trigger it was to me until that moment — have I mentioned before I’m a bit hypersensitive to sound? (Any other misophonia friends out there?). I took a deep breath, so as not to explode at this innocent child, and calmly stated that we can no longer do fun movie nights together if it’s going to distract her from falling asleep. Bribery. Works like a charm on children.

As I type this with my nubby little nails, my memory of when this bad habit began or ended is no clearer than when I started writing this, but what I can say with complete clarity is that I’m certainly glad that phase is behind me. Let’s hope the road to recovery for her is short and sweet.