They run something like this: “I’m not hurting anyone,” “It’s just something I do,” and “I can quit any time I want, like for weddings and fancy events.”

Not only am I a junkie, my preferred drug — fingernails – is grosser and less hip than glue or crystal meth, Andre Agassi’s drug of choice.

In short (no pun intended), I am completely alone in conquering my body-focused repetive behavior. NB is completely unsupported by the media; there are no subway ads presenting the multi-cultural faces of onychophagia; and there are no celebrity NB golf events. My disease has no Mary Tyler Moore, awareness week, support group, or After School Special.

No one cares that my saliva may contain dangerous levels of enterbacteria. No one cares that NB is under-researched and more likely to reflect childhood NB rather than adult NB. No one cares because all the time and attention goes to swine flu vaccines and obesity. Trust me, I’m more dangerous.

In one study, researchers at Atatürk University in Turkey collected saliva from 25 nail-biting children and 34 non-nail-biters. E. coli, Enterobacter aerogenes, Enterobacter cloacae and Enterobacter gergoviae were found in 76% of the nail biters versus 26.5% of the non-nail biters. Gross.

Finally, my innocent habit is in the same family as skin biting and hair pulling, also known as trichotillomania. In rare cases of trichotillomania, people die from eating their own hair, also known as Rapunzel Syndrome.

Thus my reasons for intervention. Although my cause has no red ribbon or Oprah show, I alone try one of nail biting’s most successful cures: habit reversal training. Instead of biting my nails, I will drink a glass of water.