This weekend, the day before my sister's wedding, I tripped and fell when I was out for a run. Of course I was wearing shorts so there was no barrier between me and the sidewalk, resulting in a rather scraped up knee. I tried to tuck & roll, so as not to hit my face or land on have to break my fall with my arms (which would surely end up broken as per usual) and was only partially successful. Although the roll added an elbow cut, a hip bruise and a shoulder scrape to my list of injuries. I am considering putting a complaint in to City of Langley regarding their faulty sidewalk as I am SURE it is the same place I tripped and fell two years ago. I haven't been back to investigate, but I'm pretty sure there's a monster living in the sidewalk who trips unsuspecting runners. Luckily I had Jessica with me, so she immediately pulled me up with hardly a laugh. After a few blocks we continued our run to the closest Starbucks where I proceeded to drown my embarrassment in a Venti Americano. Please note that I was a very Big Girl about the whole thing and didn't even cry. I posted the bloody knee picture to facebook and within 15 minutes Amanda had called to tell me that I wasn't allowed in wedding pictures anymore.
There were mostly two response types to my owie, neither which was heartfelt concern, but instead I was asked:
- Why the heck were you running the day before your sister's wedding? and/or;
- How do you fall running?
The answer to both questions is essentially because I suck at life. OK, maybe that's a little harsh. It's simple though, I like running, but am a clumsy girl. Really, I'm more surprised that I don't fall more often.
"So how is my knee?" you ask kindly. Well, it's scabbing up nicely, thank you. I had applied liquid bandage to my wound this weekend in hopes that I could maybe put some makeup over top, but it was too disgusting so I just left it out for all to see. PS, liquid bandage totally looks, smells and burns like nail polish and I'm pretty sure it's not really a good idea to put it on fresh cuts. Anyways, I spent most of the day trying to peel off the reminents of liquid bandage, which was kind of fun. I was hoping the scab would be a bit more pickable, but it needs a bit of time. Instead I picked off my entire manicure. Yes, all ten nails. After doing that, it kind of hit me that I think I have a picking problem. I quickly googled "picking scabs" to try to scare myself into not picking them any more. I came across this rather intriguing website called
www.skinpick.com and this is what it has to say:
Picking scabs is a remarkably self-perpetuating way to act out obsessive-compulsive tendencies that often signal an underlying, often as-yet-undiagnosed mood or anxiety disorder. Patients often describe the experience as comforting even though painful. And very unsightly.
Psychological symptoms that are often associated with picking scabs are depression, low self-esteem, addiction, eating disorders, and anxiety. A history of trauma or some sort of abuse is almost always involved.
Quite often the habit gets started as a way to relieve the pent-up frustrations or fears when other ways of dealing with conflict are not effective. Feeling that verbal communications are ineffective leave the scab picker feeling there is no other way to express the emotional turmoil going on inside.
Most people will pick a scab from time to time with no significant harm done. It’s when the act of picking the scab brings on emotional relief, desired pain, or pleasure that medical intervention is advised.
Wow. Insert :s face here. I'm pretty sure I just like a good de-scabbing and that I'm not bat sh*t crazy. Although, just to be sure I'm going to buy
The Complete Guide to Compusive Skin Picking Disorders (CSP) skinpick.com
for the low price of $29.95.
Gross, right? But I bet you totally wanna pick it too!
