Thursday, April 21, 2016

The snaggle had to go

I have limited toe nails, in that I have to pull them off and they take a few months to grow back. Then, if they survive that, they grow into a snaggle and I have to remove it.

Because I've lived a life of nail pulling and or removal they grow not forward but upward, rising like a thickened keratin Ularu from the bed of the toe. Then the fat nail gets a hint of an edge, a dart forward from the bulk of the nail and they snag on a sock then get part-pulled off then have to come off completely.

So it was easier to pre-remove it. From years of OCPD-fueled nail removal, the terrible thing is no tools are required. The thick-yet-pliable nail can be readily pinched between finger and thumb then ripped off in an easy motion, blood pooling in the empty and sunken bed. 

All credit to me—this time I threw the snaggle in the bin instead of tossing it into the lamp corner where the dead skin from my former habit of foot skin picking used to also be thrown. I then wrapped the toe in the hem of my ladies PJ pants to soak up the blood until the flow ceased.

I managed to give the habit of picking feet the heave ho, but not through will or anything like that—bodily degeneration means I simply can't raise my feet to have a robust go at picking at the soles. 

It's stupid habit, to pick holes in your body or raise nails or scars up from your feet or face. But it's just all part of the Mikey adventure—and my weal outweighs my woe.


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