Seeing Stars

Seeing Stars

Yes, the system of the stars in working. The purple paper on the door of my wardrobe has no stars on it yet - but it will have very soon... This afternoon I only pulled out one hair! One! And that almost-by-mistake as I as playing with my hair (what there is of it) as one does... The sheet of stickers is stuck to the door of my wardrobe as well. The more stars on the purple paper the more hair on my head - and the correlation between the two will be visable when I stand in front of the door of my wardrobe - on which is my mirror.

What I See When I Look In The Mirror

When I see at the moment when I look in the mirror (like the Guardian column...) is a damaged scalp. There was blood - my nails are sharp things and what feels so so good at the time really really hurts for a long while afterwards. They dig in - they pierce the skin - they become painted pale red with my blood... And then it heals and then it happens all over again. Hopefully the sticker chart will help with that. But I can't help but feel there will always be something. A hand dragged roughly across a rough wall as I walk beside it. Shards of burning peppercorns crunched and embedded ever so slighly in the flesh. But nothing so VISIBLE. The visible expressions of the darker side of the personality are, how shall one say, a difficult thing, like being paraded around a supermarket in suspenders or being pushed into a swimming-pool in drag. It is out of place and society doesn't like it.

I Wish

I do wish the NHS would get on with actually giving me CBT rather than sending me vague letters...