Progress?

Posted: February 3, 2015 in Musings
Tags: , , , ,

I went almost the entire day without wearing a hat. That is a big deal for me. My hat, as I have mentioned before, is like a limb to me, even thinking about not having it on in public makes my heart race.

I go through phases with my TTM, I will pull quite a bit for a few days, then I will go a few days without doing it much at all. In my pulling phases I can go an entire day without pulling, but then destroy all of my progress in a matter of two to three hours. The hours after dinner and before bed are my worst. Once I start I can’t stop. The key is to not start. Easier said than done.

Not being able to stop has been bothering me more than usual lately . . . I’ve been pretty depressed. I’ve dealt with this for 20 years, and I am doing everything I can think of stop, to “cure” this, to heal, but the very little progress there has been is so slow going that it is maddening.

One of the first things my counselor told me was to name my disorder. Give it a name. This will help you realize that it is not you . . . you must separate it from yourself. It’s not you. That’s a hard thing to convince yourself of when you are physically doing it to yourself.

Last night I read an article about obsessive compulsive disorder that reinforced this. I will try to find it again and link it up here. The article advised people with OCD and similar type disorders to remember to not blame themselves.

I woke up this morning with a new sense of determination. I’ve felt that way before, but I’ve always told myself that that day would be the day I would stop pulling. Not one hair today, not one. Today I took a different approach. This morning I decided that this think was no longer going to control me. I am no longer going to let this run my life. I did not want to wear a hat today, so I didn’t. I did not really go anywhere, just to work, and I feel pretty comfortable with the people I work with, which helped.

I am going to focus on not thinking of this as something I am doing, but as something like a parasite that is living in me, feeding off of me. I named it Shannon. Years ago in high school there was a girl named Shannon who would tell me I was ugly nearly every day. I am not sure what I did to her, but she made it her daily goal to make sure I knew how hideous I was. I hate her, really despise her, and would do anything I could to not let her get the best of me again.

I have refocused my energy . . .I am no longer going to focus this on me, but it, the IT that does this to me. She, the awful, will no longer have any power over me, what ever that may become, whether I stop doing this or not. It will no longer control me.

As I sit here, getting ready to go to bed, I have not pulled very much, a little of course, but nothing like I usually do. I am trying to not get my hopes up, because I have been down this road before, but at the same time I have to remain hopeful, optimistic. I have to.

I know I have such a strength in me, I know it’s there, I feel it. I want to use it to it’s full potential. I can stop this, I can get better.

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