In Control

I have pretty decent self-control when it comes to just about anything—eating right, homework, exercising, not spending too much money… I don’t understand how when it comes to this—It’s almost 0. How can I let it take over? It takes over my thoughts and my actions and then it takes over my life. It makes no sense. I can stop myself from doing just about anything else but I can’t control something that is destroying me. It’s sad. But I guess if it were controllable, it wouldn’t even be a disorder. It wouldn’t be around. Nobody would have it. But that’s the thing—it’s not controllable. And that’s hard for me because I like to be in control of just about everything in my life. I panic when things are out of my control. I’ve been out of control of this since I was 8 years old. I’m 21 now. It’s been 13 years since I’ve let this decide my actions, my thoughts, my feelings, my self-confidence and my hairstyles. It has controlled my relationships (or lack thereof). It’s controlled so many aspects of my life. I fight back but it’s only a matter of time until it takes over again.

Sometimes I feel defeated..

Every time I go through a pulling spirt, I feel like I become less and less in control. I used to stop pulling by being able to go ONE day without pulling and then I was good for months and months. Lately, it’s been so much harder. I have so much going on that I feel like I can’t get a handle on it. I pulled most of my regrowth out, and I’m very upset about that. It was looking SO good. It was thick and healthy and long and pretty and now it’s gone. Not all of it, but a large chunk of it. It’s hard. I try to be a professional at work and not pull but that’s where I feel like it’s the worst. My boyfriend is very supportive. A few weeks back I started pulling again, I was embarrassed. When I told him I had relapsed, he said he didn’t even notice because he doesn’t see my bald spots when he looks at me. I’m very lucky. I’m working full time and going to school full time. I live in a terrible house with terrible roommates, It’s nowhere near close to being considered a “Home”. I feel like when I have a place that I consider a home (which I have before but I’ve since moved), where I can sit on the couch and watch TV or cook or lounge around in my pajamas, I don’t feel as stressed because I have a relaxed home environment, but not this time around. The past 9 months (which is when I moved in) I’ve pulled the most I ever have in my entire life. It’s easy to become defeated. It’s easy to feel defeated. We all feel it at some point or another, but we’re NOT defeated. We still have some fight left in us, even if we’ve given up. Don’t let this defeat you. You are stronger than your urge (even though it may not feel like it sometimes). It’s not the end, do not give up.

Uh-oh

Why do I pull? What will I gain? I'm losing more than Im gaining. I lose my hair (that I've worked so hard for), confidence, happiness and faith in myself. When I pull I get a temporary satisfaction (I mean like a split second) , disappointment, that results in months of regrowth. For the past 3 months I've had this daily satisfaction of seeing my hair grow back, and the fact that I'm able to do my hair (and it looks good!). A few hours of pulling and I've ruined it. I have to start all over. I have to wait again. I have to part my hair differently. Hairspray, headbands, ponytails... I don't want to let it get there again. I don't want to be embarrassed of my own hair. I want to look pretty, I want to feel pretty. Today, over and over, I kept telling myself to stop, but I cpuldnt. Tomorrow is a new day. I'm not letting it get bad again. I start fresh tomorrow. No pulling, no scab picking on my head. I need to let it heal, I need to heal myself.