Unbelievably enough I actually did some painting... in the kitchen no less. I am so bummed that he wants to move...I love this place...oh well, I am not the one that has to drive the hour and then some each way every day... but I am absolutely nonplussed about the anticipation of another mcmansion....in a bloody subdivision..we might as well have stayed in innisfil...this sucks....oh well.
The thing I hate the most about myself is this whole mess of trich..it doesnt matter that its a "legitimate" disease...because I feel so bloody normal..other than my usual craziness....so how the hell can someone as normal as I am, pull out her hair? Its not even that..its the fact that once I even pull one, I am usually gone for at least half an hour...we are talking about the last twenty years of my life.....and how many hours, here and there, have been wasted on this? The things I could have done, the books I could have read..this has impactd my life in so many unseen ways, other than the obvious fact that I am missing a good chunk of my hair..but the art of camoflage..gotta love it. Still, dont look., dont touch, and you wont pull....i hate how the hair seems to call...to beg...to DEMAND that I just. pull. one.
If I thougth it would stop me from pulling, I would shave my entire head bald..but I doubt it would have much effect....I feel like such a loser...I remember reading once that approximately 1% of the world's population suffers from trichotillomania...I wonder how they know that....I know that I sure as hell wouldnt admit to it...point blank liar..thats me...at least I havent been called on it in years....the worst thing is when people would think that I had cancer...the pity would be unbearable..but all I would say was that, no, I didnt have cancer...and not answer the rest of the questions....but its even worse to be thought of as "the girl who pulls her hair out"...uggghhhh....

I feel it surge through me...like a nauseous wave of contempt, rising up through me...from the bottom of my belly....up...up..up...into my fingers...moving them towards my head, or wherever else I am tempted....tingling, aching with the anticipation of release from pressure...sending shivers down my spine, knowing that I will be rendering myself helpless, after I've gone as long as days, months, hours or maybe only minutes, before my calloused fingers go to their devious ways of torturing my souls...making me hate hate hate myself. i AM normal...but why do I do this? because... you hate yourself.

I know the best way to not do it is to keep my hands busy and to also be around others...but I am now doing it in front of the girls...I am so tired of this....running my hand across my head....just to tempt myself...i hate myself