Tag Archives: Anxiety

I BITE MY NAILS

22nd and Park

22nd and Park (Photo credit: myklsc)

Are you surprised?  Have I blogged about this before?

Since my earliest remembrance of walking to kindergarten with Ferris, my boyfriend, I have bitten my nails. Nobody ever complained about it  or reprimanded me (though I knew to be mortified) until I met my future husband.  Do you find that weird that nobody ever said, “you shouldn’t bite  your nails, honeypie.”

So after 18 years +, I stopped biting my nails.  How?  I had tried everything I read about in Glamour Magazine and Teen Magazine.  I even tried that awful-tasting “poison” stuff you put on your nails.  I bit right through it.  Anxiety is anxiety?  My whole growing up was one big pit of anxiety with two drink lovers as parents and three siblings who didn’t know which end was up.   At least that’s what I’m blaming it on.  Because I have no weaknesses, you know; I am formidable.

It wasn’t until my soon-to-be husband said, “No engagement ring for you until you stop biting your nails. ”  So lovingly he said this.  Can you imagine?  I swear.  Well, I told all 18 of my engineers that I worked for at the time about this predicament and  their phone calls from their desks started coming in.  (They liked Marty.)

“You’re biting your nails again”, they’d say calmly into the phone, even though they were sitting six feet from me.

“I am?”

That’s what it took.  Eighteen engineers watching me all day, five days a week.  They were my saviors.  I got my diamond ring.

To this day, I still constantly struggle with it, and I’m mighty proud when I have a nicely manicured hand to display.  And I still constantly fight that anxiety!

 

DARNITALL

I have a horrible feeling I’m going to be saying goodbye to these that are stored beneath the flats on the top.  I called my foot doctor for the second time yesterday (plus my three visits) and asked him two questions:  1) can he tell I have a problem with anxiety?, and 2) why is my foot hurting worse now than it did four days ago?

He said he couldn’t help me with my anxiety levels, but he could probably help me with my foot.  I beg to differ, he could help me with my anxiety levels – it’s called a prescription. I know, Blonde-Bomb Shell’s husband says I’m already a walking CVS.  The foot doctor suggested I was so tense about the recovery that I was keeping the whole foot in a rigid form, tensing the large muscle right under my incision all the time.  Yeah, maybe.  But I’m freaking out that I might be wearing sneakers when I go to NYC with Libby.  Actually, I think at this point I will be happy if I am in sneakers.  What if I always have worse pain now?  It’s a possibility, apparently.  I’ve read too many threads about how this surgery goes awry.  Why didn’t I read them before the surgery?  Everyone tells me not to read the crap, but I do.  So do you, don’t you?  But wait, I had this surgery because the last surgery went awry, so what are the chances?

The sad thing is that this isn’t all my heels.  That’s going to be a huge new investment for me (Marty).  Flat shoes.

Yes, I have some Tom’s, but the doctor doesn’t consider those sneakers.  Phfft.  Look at those gorgeous pink Circa Joan and Davids.  Those gorgeous floral Ralph’s.