It started 7 years ago. I was 16, sitting in cass, minding my own business. I remember it like it was yesterday. The memory is so clear in my mind I can almost see who was sitting where in the classroom. The girl next to me was playing with her hair, looking at it so attentively I had to ask what she was doing. She was looking through the strands of her hair, seeking out the split ends and cutting them off. I was fascinated, as I now knew what all those TV ads were talking about.

I went home that night and sat in my bathroom for ages, just playing through my hair and discovering in what a poor state it was. Split ends everywhere! I was hooked. There were different kinds, some were worse than others. I began to overanalyze my hair, how it breaks, where it breaks, and then just staring the split end it right in the face. So there began my obsession with my hair. I would look at it in class, at home while watching TV or doing homework, or whatever else. I can't remember the first time I pulled my hair, but I know that it was the next step in my obsession. I started doing it when I was at my desk, my right arm was busy writing or whatnot, and my left would just play with my hair. As I got more and more into it, I began to notice the various textures of the hairs. Some were more coarse than others, as I have wavy hair. And for some reason, I decided to pull one out. It felt good, on the scalp and to have that fiar out of my head. That was it. That's all it took. I couldn't stop it anymore. Before I knew it, I was finding hair everywhere around me: on my clothes, on the floor next to me desk, in the shower (because my hair was now thinning), and my mother never ceased to remind me of this. I couldn't help it though, i had no control over my hands, and soon after, it was my head that had completely taken over.

 

Now I find myself dealing with two obsessions: finding and taking out the split ends I find, and pulling out my hair. I love the sound it makes, it's almost like a symphony. I rarely use scissors so it's the sound of the hair ripping that I hear. There are some of them that I can leave in my hair, they don't seem to bother me as much, but others it is a must. If I lose sight of them, it drives me a little crazy and I go on som kind of a hunt for it, seeing if I can find it again. The hair pulling comes in waves, but always when I'm at my desk. Right now, it's not so bad, but I'm sure it will start again in a week or so. I have lost several hours of sleep over my hair: just another minute, another few split ends, a few more strands, and then I can go to sleep. Next thing I know, it's 2am and I have to get up early in the morning. It has started to get worse, those night have happened more and more. Hopefully it will stop and I will just do it during the daytime. Who knows.

 

It is quite strange to have said all this "aloud". Explaining the obsession, putting it into words, is so different from living it. I guess I am hoping it serves as some kind of therapy seeing as though I can't afford the real thing thse days.

 

 

 

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