Hi my friends, it’s time for another monthly update!
March was exciting in so many ways. I took some incredible personal strides and got to watch people I love do the same. And yet, there were many moments of frustration that, at times, made it difficult to celebrate the successes.
I felt like for all the steps I took forward, I took as many steps backward. I ended the month feeling fairly confused about my future and not sure which direction to go professionally.
But growth is always painful, so at the end of the day, I have to remind myself that the hardships I’m enduring now will lead to great things and a better, more resilient me. I must remain grateful for all of it, even when it hurts.
So without further ado, here’s the big news from the past month.
In March 2018…
I beat my trichotillomania once and for all.
Never. Never in a million years did I think I’d be able to write these words. I beat my trich. I no longer pull out my hair!
In fact, as of this writing, it’s been a full 31 days since I’ve pulled a single hair from my head. And that is an enormous win no matter how you slice it.
If you’re not sure what the heck I’m talking about, trichotillomania is classified as an impulse control disorder; it causes a strong urge to pull hair from one’s scalp or other areas of the body, despite efforts to stop. This disorder is something that has plagued me since I was a teenager, and something I honestly wasn’t sure I could overcome, ever.
If you want to know more about my past and my trich, I encourage you to give this post a read through. It’ll explain more than I will be able to in a few paragraphs here, including why this is such a huge win for me.
But. (Of course there’s a but).
I haven’t really been able to celebrate this massive achievement for what it is, for a couple of reasons.
The first is that I know that I’m not totally out of the woods yet. I still have moments of weakness, where the urge returns momentarily. They are very few and far between I haven’t given in, but it means I still have more work to do to remove it from my reality altogether.
So it’s hard to celebrate this as a solid win when it feels like my trich is sort of just hiding around a corner rather than dead and gone.
Another reason is that this is not something other people readily understand. This thing, this monster that has tormented me since the age of 14, appears as little more than a nuisance to those around me. People LOVED to call my trichotillomania a “nervous tick.”
It drove me absolutely nuts, and even worse, spoke to a deep misunderstanding of mental health disorders such as this one.
What people don’t know is that my trichotillomania felt a lot like being possessed by something more powerful than myself. Everyone has their demons, and this was one of mine.
My hair pulling felt utterly beyond my control, and it was CONSTANT (another thing most people didn’t know because I spend so much time alone). And despite being aware of my own actions, I still found myself unable to put a stop to it.
That’s how strong this subconscious urge was–I knew I was pulling my hair out, and I knew how much shame and regret it caused me, and yet it continued.
For nearly 17 agonizing years.
So what feels like an enormous victory to me goes almost unnoticed by others. They couldn’t see the shame I felt every time I picked up a pile of hair from the floor after a day of work. They couldn’t see the embarrassment it caused me to be given even the gentlest of reminders to stop pulling.
They couldn’t see the underlying pain that had led to this behavior in the first place, and because they didn’t see any bald spots, they most often arrived at their own conclusion: “Well, it’s not that severe.”
But let me tell you something, guys, and keep this in mind when dealing with ANYONE who’s struggling with a mental health issue…
This is a silent battle that did infinitely more harm on the inside than it did on the outside.
Fighting a losing battle like this, especially for an extended period of time, will wreak havoc on a person’s mental and emotional well-being.
Trichotillomania obliterated my self-esteem. Made me feel like I wasn’t in control of my own life. Made me feel less than human.
So when I shared the news of my achievement with the mental health professionals here in Wenatchee and was met with dismissive comments, it sucked the wind right out of my sails. They just didn’t get what this meant for me, and that in itself was hurtful.
To be completely frank with you, I’ve spent much of the month reminding myself that I don’t NEED them (or anyone else) to understand the magnitude of this win. My own little inner circle is thrilled for me, and I’m feeling good knowing I’m on a new path to recovering from the trauma of this nearly decades-long ordeal.
What you’re probably wondering at this point is HOW I managed to finally, after all these years, put a stop to this thing that I never thought I could control.
And I do intend to write about this on its own, so I’ll save the in-depth explanation for that future post, but it basically boiled down to the act of using my thoughts to change my reality.
I told myself over and over again–as I was falling asleep at night, first thing when I woke up in the morning, and anytime I felt the urge–that I did not pull out my hair. And I didn’t just think it, I believed it.
“I don’t pull out my hair” became the daily refrain, and it wasn’t long before it became my reality. And by that I mean, the urge to pull my hair out practically disappeared overnight.
There’s definitely more to this story, but you guys, I couldn’t believe how a simple change in my thought patterns so quickly manifested into a different reality.
There’s no longer any doubt in my mind that you are what you believe, and I can’t wait to see how much more I can achieve using the same basic principles.
And if any of you are battling something similar, know that you DO have the power to change it.
When I started going to counseling, I wanted to put a stop to my trich. I had a lot of emotional healing to do before I could do that, but the counseling is NOT the thing that healed me.
A stepping stone, perhaps. A sign that I was ready to finally deal with my pain, to be sure. But in the end, I did that shit all on my own, and no psychiatrist is going to take that victory away from me.
I experimented with a different kind of therapy.
By now, you may be under the impression that I think mental health counseling is useless. That it did nothing for me and it was a waste of my time.
So let me just set the record straight here: counseling is absolutely wonderful, and I highly recommend it to anyone who’s struggling, no matter how “not severe” your issues may seem to others.
If there’s something that’s plaguing you, talking to an unbiased professional is a beautiful outlet.
Pain needs to be worked through and experienced fully before we can release it, but most of us are accustomed to avoiding our pain and locking it away in the archives–until it comes up later in life in an unexpected and disastrous way.
However, it may take time to find a counselor that you connect with, and it’s okay if the first one you meet with isn’t a good fit.
My first counselor? Not a great fit for me. But I continued to see her anyway, so the fact that I didn’t get much out of our sessions is on me. I had a choice in the matter but let my fear of hurting her feelings stop me from making that important decision.
And if you’re anything like me, you may find other styles of therapy more enjoyable and beneficial. Styles that are less clinical and more personal. Less Western and more Eastern.
I knew I needed to keep searching for a counselor that could understand and speak to my spiritual journey in addition to my emotional one. Someone who wouldn’t just see my pain through a clinical lens where everything has a pharmaceutical solution.
Thanks to my sweet fiancé, I got a chance to meet with a holistic health practitioner and our very first session together, in no uncertain terms, changed my life.
I knew immediately that this type of therapy deeply resonated with me. She gave me invaluable tools to use in my daily life, so I can be more compassionate with those around me but most importantly myself.
So when it comes right down to it, having the right style of therapy (and a counselor you connect with) can make allllll the difference. Instead of a cold greeting where even a handshake is unwelcome, I now get bear hugs from someone I consider a friend–a friend who will celebrate the crap out of my victories alongside me.
Instead of sitting on a cold leather couch, making eye contact with the floor because my counselor is too busy typing every word I say to meet my gaze, I sit comfortably on the floor with my shoes off, sharing every part of me because I feel safe enough to do so.
Again, my first stab at therapy wasn’t useless. It just wasn’t the best fit for me. Take your time to find what’s right for you, remembering that you are absolutely worth it.
We spent an amazing 10 days in Maui, and my mom found a great place to rent!
For many years now, my mom has dreamt of calling the island of Maui home. So on our most recent trip, the intention was to make that a reality by finding her the perfect new place to live.
A place that would welcome her pets (a dog and a cat) and serve as the perfect starting point for an exciting new chapter in her life.
So the three of us (my mom, my fiancé Hans, and myself) hopped on a plane, not knowing what, if anything, would come of our search. As you might expect, apartment rentals go pretty quickly in Maui, and on top of that, it’s difficult to find pet-friendly rentals.
What we did know was that buying a house wasn’t in the cards for the time being, so we focused our efforts on rentals in the Kihei area.
Much to all of our surprise, my mom liked the very first one we looked at! And we were even more surprised (shocked, rather) when they offered it to her the very next day!
My mom proceeded to panic thinking about what she had just gotten herself into as I popped the bubbly, thrilled to see her taking this leap of faith and following her heart.
If absolutely nothing else interesting had happened on this trip, I still would have been satisfied knowing big things were happening for her. She was taking charge of HER life, no longer waiting for anyone’s approval or permission.
HELL YEAH, MOM!
The new digs are located smack in the middle of Kihei, just a couple blocks from the beach on a quiet residential street. It’s a charming little cottage with a fenced yard, covered patio, and just enough living space for my mom and the animals (and a guest room for when everyone and their mother comes to visit her).
Now, we’re tasked with making the move actually happen over the next few months (moving the animals is the longest process of all) and we’re ready for the challenge.
Of course, plenty of other amazing things happened while in Maui, as they always do! Hans and I got to meet one of our favorite spiritual teachers at his beautiful home in Haiku. We joined the one and only Ram Dass and company for an evening of kirtan, and it was every bit as magical as you’d imagine.
We were also fortunate enough to take a whale watching tour and a stand-up paddleboard lesson, drive a small section of the road to Hana, spend a few nights at a Haiku hideaway, and eat the most delicious food at restaurants all over the island.
So, I have plenty of Maui blog posts coming soon, to say the least! And since my mom will be calling Maui home in the very near future, you can bet we’ll be returning sooner than later to continue our passionate love affair with the island.
All in all, a very successful trip!
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That’s all for March…onward and upward!
