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Sunday, June 12, 2011

The weird introspective blog post; AKA the love/hate letter to trichotillomania

Trichotillomania. It's a very weird word, and it's kinda hard to say. It's even harder to explain.
Over the last decade, I've struggled to find the words to describe to people why and how I do what I do, I look how I look. Trichotillomania. Described as an impulsive control disorder, it shares DSM-IV listing space with pyromania, gambling, kleptomania, compulsive nail biting, and compulsive skin picking.

Trichotillomania: literally; to obsessively pull hair. It really sucks.

I've had TTM since I was in the 7th grade, and that was reaaaalllly not a convenient time to be ostracized from teenage society. Imagine: having bald patches from picking your hair so much due to stress and anxiety just furthers a vicious cycle; friends no longer want you to cramp their style, boys mock you, and a lot of self esteem issues arise. You learn from a young age that you can't be pretty if you don't have pretty hair.

It's so stupid, really. It's just dead protein, and it sounds stupid to be worried about something like that. Anyone reading this, however, I challenge you to imagine pulling out your own hair and contending with the realization and horror of how illogical the action is, how ashamed you feel. I challenge you to imagine having a perpetual bad hair day. It seems like such a stupid, stupid thing to worry about.

And yet...there are entire industries around hair care, growing hair, hair styling; business is booming for cancer patients affected by hair loss from chemotherapy. Hair is seen as a symbol of beauty and health in many cultures. WTF, trichotillomania?

There's so many worse things in life to deal with on a day-to-day basis. There are, and I recognize this. But to think of all the things in life I missed out on, that I LET myself miss out on for fear of being noticed in a wrong light...it's not fair. But life isn't fair. All of the things I didn't do in high school, or in the years after, because I felt gross and stupid and ugly. If I wasn't being ridiculed, I was being ignored, and I learned to prefer the latter while aching to worry about the regular kind of high school misfit business.

Of course it's easy to push forward and try to make people see you for who you are, but when your personality is altered during the formative years, what kind of person does that make you? I wonder what I'd be like if I didn't have trichotillomania. If I continued being the loud-mouthed outgoing person I was as a little girl. Would I be different, or would I allow myself the continued emotional detachment in some other neurosis. I miss being goofy, and I miss allowing myself to attach to people without being petrified if I'm socially acceptable enough. I miss being able to talk to people about how I feel about things without saying "this happened, then this happened" and that be that.

For those of you actually reading this saying "oh please get over yourself"....duh. Here's the thing, I say all this stuff because its on my mind and I'm exercising being more open, especially about something so visible. I'm trying to get people to see where I'm coming from because ultimately I need to vent this out. But I can't blame every flaw on trichotillomania and societal expectations; a lot of my problems stem from me, plain and simple. I'm trying to work on those things, too...but I don't know how. I'm 24 and I still don't know how to vocalize and change.

A few friends advised that I need to stop spending so much time in my head and just let things fall where they may. I need to let things go, and I need to be less of a bitch while standing my ground more effectively. I need to get a hobby and actually be interesting to other people. I also need those people to call me in the middle of the night to talk to me when they know I'm freaking out...and for those that do, I thank you. I need more adventures in my life, and more chances to be silly.

But still, wtf trichotillomania...you could at least be easier to pronounce.

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