#borderlin

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I believe it was in first grade when it happened. It is really hard to tell because of the fact that I have blocked out majority of my childhood. Even the last therapist I went to (Unfortunately we did not discuss my Trich) said several things to me that really have me bothered. One was about my childhood. He said that it is very worrying that I have SO much of it blocked out. I have almost no memory of it. I was told that I need to come to terms with the fact that as therapy progresses, I might start to uncover things that are going to hurt. That I am going to get worse before I get better as I discover these things about my past that I have refused to confront for majority of my life. I worry. But I think I’m ready. Anyway, the second thing he said to me was about my coping ability as I told him a little bit about what lead me to seek help and how I spiraled out of control during my 20’s. He said to me “In all honesty, I don’t know how you were able to survive a life like that on your own….. that’s impressive. But sad.” Believe me. I know. I just looked at him and said “I almost didn’t make it”. I had given up on life many many times. But those are stories for another time. Sorry, getting back on subject, I want to say it was in first grade that it happened because I recall later in my teen years seeing my school pictures that my mom had saved and in my first grade photo I had a nice full lush set of thick black eyelashes. Second grade, eyelids bare and smooth as a babies butt. As I stated before, I don’t remember what happened to me to trigger the Trich reaction. They say it is caused by stress or trauma. It is also and inherited disorder. Thank you Grandma that I never met! On top of everything the universe dealt me, you gave me a mania that would DESTROY my life. But I hold no ill will. I actually did meet her once. But apparently she was not welcome in my fathers home and that visit ended very abruptly when he came home from work and saw her sitting there. Very strange situation. I’m not sure why my step mother let her in. She knew that there was animosity in the family. But the women came in, sat down. Introduced herself to me as my Grandmother. My fathers mother. And I didn’t know what to do or say. I thought she was dead. But I took one look at her and knew immediately where my mania came from. There sat an old woman who had no eyelashes or eyebrows. Sometimes I think that might have been why my father avoided me my whole life. I reminded him of someone he hated. But who knows. They are both dead now. The only thing I remember from that moment when I first pulled ALL of my eyelashes out was leaving my room, My moms boyfriend was in the living room playing a game of the NES, and I walked out after doing what I had done. *They* (I’m not sure if my mom and brother were there too or if it was just Bill) but all eyes were on me and someone said “what have you done to yourself?!?!?!”. I remember bits and pieces of what came later at school and with friends and family. A lot of “why” and “how horrible” and “I’m sorry” was thrown around by a lot of people. But my timeline is scattered. I was made fun of. Laughed at. Poked, prodded and questioned. I was told to wear sunglasses because I didn’t have the “protection” from the elements anymore. But I always thought it was because I was so unsightly. What else was I to think? I had become Frankenstein’s Monster. Life became difficult after that and I just continued to pull. Every time they would grow back I would pull. It’s a sensation you cant really describe to someone who doesn’t suffer from the disorder. Its also an impulse you simply CAN NOT control. Many times I have caught myself to this day randomly feeling my eyes, eyebrows and head for something to pull out. I’m not sure why. I do a better job at stopping myself. But I am in no way better. As of lately I have been under a great deal of stress and find in the morning when I wake up that I had been pulling in my sleep. Measures were taken to try to stop me and prevent me from continuing to pull. But people can’t be there all the time. So their efforts were thwarted and I continued on my journey of being the ugly duckling. And the outcast. I also grew to believe that I was an embarrassment to my family. I have made the decision to post a blog with pictures about my Trich. Just not today. You see, today is my 33rd birthday. And I have things to do. So keep an eye out. My blog is sure to become a lot more interesting. People love drama and horror. My life is filled with it. But don’t get discouraged. There is also love and light in my life. You might be in for an emotional rollercoaster. But its not going to be all doom and gloom. Until next time……~Screwtape

Are you considered a “catfish” is you’re lying about who you are to the entire world? Maybe that makes me the ultimate catfish. At this point I am not ready to reveal myself to the world. Most of the things that will come out here have not reached many ears (if any). I lived most of my life hiding (and hating) who I truly am. Diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) at the ripe age of 18, my life was for a lack of a better word insane. Now, diagnosed again at the age of 32 Ihave lost friends, family, loved ones, my own self respect... the list goes on and on. Maybe one day I will reveal my story to the world. Expose myself. But until then, try to keep up. The thoughts become erratic. The stories get wild. The stories get boring. IT is one rollercoaster of a ride and a therapist told me that I should probably write. Write it all out. Like Ray Bradbury wrote “Write so as not to be dead”.

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