I’m psyched

My arm gets scratched. Nice scab forms. The healing is progressing well. Just leave it alone. Yet I, I’m so so tempted to peel it off before I should. Why is that? My fingernails are drawn to that scab as sure as my tongue is drawn to the hole left by my recently extracted tooth.

My psyche is similar to my arm, it just has so many more scabs to pick at. And pick at them I do.