This evening - no, this night - I have given into the Trichotillomania and pulled my hair out again - quite a lot of it and all. Why? Partly becuase of the bewildered stressfulness of looking up how to send an important essay to my university - without quite knowing how much it will weigh (how strange that word looks). Partly Becuase, wandering around Facebook, I found a discussion of the following question (or something along the lines of): 'Can Anyone Give Me One Good Reason Why Gays Should Have Rights?' The very reading of said pseudo-question was enough to jar with my idea of a pleasant evening. I did not dare join said pseudo-debate. I simply did not dare. 'Can Anyone Tell Me One Logical Reason Why People Who Hate People Should Not Themselves Be Hated By Those They Hate?' Hate hate hate. Not a good train of thought. But how to escape from it? Without tearing something or someone up into little pieces? So, of course, she tore her hair... How Biblical. Also sheer fatigue. So: On Day Three Of The Blog She Fell From Grace. You will see more of this. More of this failure. Becuase having Trichotillomania is to experience failure after failure after failure. However - look at James Bond. Would his wonderful triumph at the end of the movie be quite so vivid and victorious had he not, at some point or other, been held hostage by a chap with a big white cat? Only connect.
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Right, from reading this. YOU NEED VIOLENCE!
ReplyDeleteI suggest a martial art, or the SCA. The SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) would suit you right down to the ground.
You get to hit people with medieval weapons and make/dress up in medieval clothing.