These fingers were made for working…

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For as long as my brain can remember events in my life, those memories always include bloody fingers.

I was a “picker.” I never chewed my fingernails, but I always picked at my cuticles. I was OCD about having no cuticles, but my OCD carried me away.  I would pick and pick until my fingers were all bloody and I didn’t have any fingerprints.  This stemmed from an extreme case of anxiety. I would just sit, and think about all the things I had to do (mind you, this was happening as an 8 year old.  What was I SO worried about, not getting a prime swing at the park??) Instead of actually doing anything, I would just continually stress about it and pick at my fingers.  

Recently, my very good friend freaked out when she noticed how beautiful my hands were!  I had stopped picking!!  I had stopped picking for so long that my fingers were not even a shade of recovery pink.  My digits were a normal looking pale (although my thumbs still have faint prints).   However, just a few days after she notices my boyfriend broke up with me. I started to panic.  Am I going to go back into my depression? Am I going to have panic attacks? Am i going to start picking my fingers again?  I had started to freak out about the potential of all these things without really having a reason too, that’s how used to my anxiety I am!   It’s been a little over a month now….I had a week of panic attacks.  But I realized I wasn’t depressed.  I wasn’t even sad. My fingers are still beautiful. My friend even asked me, “Ya know…you are having way more fun without ____.” 

Now, whenever I look at my fingers I remember that I have control over everything.  These fingers are a symbol of work I have overcome in terms of my long lasting depression, my dependency on others for happiness, and my general outlook on life.  These fingers are the makers of their own happiness – it’s up to them whether it’s a bloody battle or a modeling career.

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