BETTER AND STRONGER

  Hello readers. After days of mad rush, finally got some time for myself. I wonder who saw my tweet about trichotillomania and my Instagram new biography. I feel that the time is right now, I feel that I am ready to face the world about this and be completely honest :) also, time to pour my insecurities that I've been feeling all along that were left unspoken. So, I have been suffering from trichotillomania for the past 2 years of my JC education. Trichotillomania is a type of obsessive compulsive disorder that causes you to pull your hair out, and people feel a form of relief by doing that. To all the healthy people out there, I'm sure this sounds sick like why the hell would you pull your hair out. It's the same as wrist cutting, clubbing, blogging, smoking, it's all a form of relief. It just started out of the blue, awhile after jc started, I began playing with my hair. I really wasn't stress at that point in time I have no idea what triggered me to start because my hand just went to my head. It started with a small bald patch and then when that patch became too obvious, I start pulling from the other side of my head again. My parents recgonise me as balding and Sent me to beijing101 for treatment. They diagnose me as just my scalp being dirty hence the hair falling and I didn't dare confess things to anyone so it remained a secret. They spend few thousand dollars on Beijing101, saw that it wasn't working, brought me to a skin specialist and they said that it was my own antibodies attacking my scalp and causing the hair fall. I still didn't dare to confess so I was down for injections (10shots) all over my head once a month. In school, i was using other parts of my hair to cover the empty spots. I dreaded PE and dance because when I sweat, the hair sticks together and the bald spots can be seen. And then comes the trauma with so many people coming straight to my face and asking eh you balding ah. And during lecture, because we were seated in staggered steps so the higher seats all could see my head from above. And there was once this classmate just exclaimed eh lynette you balding ah in the middle of the lecture and everyone looked over at me. Yep, I just had to laugh it off and act like everything's ok. It dragged on till this year. Some times when I have a strong motivation to stop I could resist pulling for maybe 3-4days, and it'll grow back a little then the 5th day because I was resisting it so much, the pulling was massive and horrid. My mom took me to the national skin centre and the doctor, finally diagnosed me with the right illness, trichotillomania. It was hardest for my mom to accept it, to believe that her daughter is causing all this worries and problems, pulling all her hair out, making herself look ugly and killing the future. Thus, the whole situation became worst because she was blaming, reprimanding me. I was so fucking stressed up, I knew I was so fucking messed up. I kept trying to drown but she just kept pushing me down. Eventually, I sink into depression. The doctor prescribed anti-depressants for me. It was affecting my school work so much because it was suppose to reduce brain activity so that I don't over think but how the hell do you survive jc Without using your brain. I visited the psychiatrist regularly that wasnt helping at all because she says the same thing every time and charges a bomb. All the teachers were picking on me because of my sloopy attitude and when im facing some problems, they gave my contact to the school counsellor to seek help. And again people always steoreotype when people go counselling. i think people who reject counselling which is just a simple chit chat session fear being steoreotyped too. I skipped schools, I wasn't sick, I was just at home, in my room ,pulling all my hair out. Recalling, it was indeed a disturbing scene. I will just lie on my bed, and the aftermath would be a pool of hair. And I had to dispose them away secretly so that my mom wouldn't find out that I was pulling. I couldn't sleep, I just pulled the whole night away. I pulled until there were more bald spots than hair on my head. Oh YA, I bought a wig, I hated wigs. I was afraid of them because of all the horror movies. I hated short hair that I can't swing when I dance with. But after awhile, I became so dependent on the wig because it was made of real hair and few people actually could tell (except if you start to question why doesn't my hair grow after two years). I felt like a normal being when I'm wearing that wig, I can find my confidence sometimes, but I was generally never happy. When my mom forbid me to wear my wig when I went downstairs to study, I wore a beanie and I just look bald and was having weird stares from everyone, I hate that feeling. At the same time, being so reliant on my wig, I was afraid it would be an excuse for me and I would forever wear it on and never get out of this. I spend two years of my birthday with that wig on, and each year my birthday's wish is to not wear a wig anymore by the next birthday. As I was so depressed, I was extremely skeptical of my classmates and I just shut the world out thinking no one ever meant what they say, and I hate humans. Wearing a wig sucks, the thing that sucks most is not that you don't have long hair to look pretty (although this too, whenever I go town and I see all the girls with long pretty hair, I recall when I had my long hair in secondary school, those pretty moments, you'll really look very different with long and short hair), but the part that sucks more is dance. I can't dance properly. I missed my golden opportunity to learn so much more from the Taiwan trip cause I was restricted, for fear that when I dance halfway my wig would drop out. Some closer friends like the dancers and some of the classmates actually knew that I'm wearing a wig. They were rather concerned at the start but I kinda like the later stage where they treated me normal, stop asking in a pitiful tone and not alien. But other than my parents, I still never confessed to anyone about this disorder. My recovery started with my first step, confessing. I told myself if I was brave enough to really admit it first, then I will feel more obliged to do something about it and recover. During one of the lunch breaks, I plucked up my courage and told them about it. The point is who you tell is very important. Because after this step, they're gonna play an important role in being your pillar of strength. It was the on and off season too, sometimes I pull, sometimes I don't. Some days I still breakdown in school real and cry, but most days I still manage to be brave and strong and happy in school. These girls really went the extra mile for me, encouraging me. (And also Charles yap, Cheryl and shiqi)  After months, progress was very slow and minimal so my mom started forcing me to shave Botak. I shriveled at the thought of it. I rejected it. Maybe guys wouldn't understand but girls, can you just imagine shaving bald? When I had long hair, I always see people who went for hair for hope, I ask myself and the answer was I didn't dare to do the same thing as them and hence I really respect girls who go for hair for hope. My second savior was Mr lim, A's was approaching, and emotionally I'm so unwell I really couldn't battle A's. Had the best heart to heart session with mr lim ever and even though I didn't tell him my problems, he had all the right words that gave me a push. I went home, took the blade, and shaved away my hair. As I saw the hair falling, I teared. Then I touch my empty head in the bath, and I felt disgusted by the feeling of skin and pores. I whipped out my phone and took selfies with my bald head, trying to smile to remind myself that I look beautiful. But it was really a good decision because when there's no hair, you can't pull and that's the best way to kick the addiction. So time slowly passes and now it's been very long since I last pulled. Maybe once in a blue moon if it kicked back again, I would allow some leeway and not be so hard on myself, in case it kicks back even stronger. And ever since I slow picked myself up, I have been feeling genuinely happier and happier. Now, my hair is just short like those army boys but yesterday I challenged myself to go dance without my wig (it has been my dream since forever). On the train there, people were staring at my hair and then my boobs and painted nails. I mean come on, given my height i could quite easily pull off as a guy, but  jokes aside, the judgemental glances were making me quite conscious. But dance was brilliant and I felt so good just swinging and not worrying about anything, being able to full out when dance. I had so much confidence when I was on the train home. I didn't even care when people looked. This lady kept looking and I even purposely troll her HAHA. I FELT DAMN GOOD. So then prom I wore a long hair wig because it's every girl's dream to have long hair in that dress. I'm saying all this not because I want you to feel worry and sympathetic for me and not telling you how tough life is but how tough you can be to beat life. Also, wanna clear some things online so even if you have any opinions or judgements, you can do so behind my back and not say it in front of my face and hurt my feelings. XD  cheers to better days ahead!!