Depression Hurts

I've been writing a lot, but I haven't been writing a lot on this blog. I've been concentrated my writing on my writing blog, and as a consequence I feel like my baby blogger has been neglected. I've been updating this blog for over three years now.

I came to blogger in a dark time, that I didn't realize was dark. I had people telling me they thought I was depressed. I had people telling me they would be depressed too if they had lost all of their hair. I didn't believe them even as the swirling vortex of depression was sweeping me away.

Looking back on that time, years ago. I realize I came back into writing for cathartic purposes. At first, I didn't have a goal. I had a lot of boredom. I spent much of my time reading, escaping into a book, and pushing family away. I made some great friends, and that was what I needed at that time-- outside influences.  It's funny how we can't see what is happening to us until we take a step back. For me that step back was three years later: NOW. I look back at that time of my life, and I see someone who was suffering and didn't know where to turn. I was having trouble in my marriage, my hair fell out, my kids were all little bitty and depended on me for so much, my oldest son was having emotional problems of his own, and for me the easiest thing to do was escape.

I did escape in a productive way. I started taking Tae Kwon Do. I made friends through Tae Kwon Do, who told me I was beautiful even if I was bald. Some of those friends even encouraged my writing, and I have them to thank for how far I've come since then. I learned discipline, and I realized how much exercise helped me to relax and to find a direction for the hopeless boredom I felt on the inside. Because for me that's what depression does. It makes me feel bored and unsettled. It makes me flit from one thing to another like a toddler. When I'm depressed, satisfaction is elusive, like that vague term happiness.  

Finding direction is hard, and now I see my son suffering the same symptoms, although he suffers in a different way than me. He has this crazy energy, and he has this need to direct it. Unfortunately when you have so much energy, so much drive, and a mind that won't stop turning, the dark cloud sometimes threatens to rain on you. You sometimes feel like nothing works for you and nothing will fill up that empty place inside.

I have felt like that so much. I still feel like that some days. So my heart aches so much for my son, when I see that he has so many of these same symptoms. My heart aches for him when he struggles with his frustration and anger. I hope he finds his purpose, and I hope his friends understand his struggles--at least a little bit. And until then, Hubby and I are going to help him through.

People who are mentally ill, don't always know when they are spiraling downward until they have landed at the bottom or even until they are climbing out.  Our mental health system in the U.S. is broken. Just ask me. I have to shell out tons of money every year, because my insurance (a reputable agency) will only support ONE psychiatrist (and they just went out of business) in my city of 250k people. ONE. So for people who are suffering or who have children suffering, like me, they often have to dole out dollars they can't afford to part with, but must for their own good or for the sake of their children.

We need to break this stigma. We need to get people the help they need. And more than that, we don't need to be afraid to talk about. Because when we're afraid to talk about it the people who are suffering or who have loved ones who are suffering feel more isolated and more alone.  People need to realize there is no normal.  We are all flawed and broken creatures, but there is help out there.

 I've found my purpose, and having goals and pushing myself every day to achieve has given me more of a sense of who I am and it helps to keep the restless boredom from claiming my life.

You can read more about mental illness here and the different types of disorders that affect 1 in 4 Americans :  http://www.thekimfoundation.org/html/about_mental_ill/statistics.html.

New Year, New Hair

New Year, New Hair.  I started out the new year, making changes, as most people do.  We all set forth with resolutions. I'll finally clean out that closet, even if it takes me a year (and it will, simply because it's not important to me).  I'll finally lose the fifty pounds of fat that's been hanging around my body too long.

Every New Year, people strive to make a new person out of themselves.. And why?  Because celebrating a new year is about celebrating life and renewal.  You have a whole year laid out in front of you, in which you can do ANYTHING.  You can write a book, or you can write 1,000 words a day like I'm doing.  You can get married, you could get pregnant and have a baby, you could get divorced, you could make new friends, take up a new sport. There are endless possibilities, which makes the new year such an excellent time to try to do something to better yourself and your life; to make you happy.

This new year, I started out with new hair, thanks to my Mom.  She bought me a blonde wig for Christmas that took me out of my comfort zone.  For a liberal, I'm very conservative.  I have always dressed demurely, and I've been comfortable with my own style, but this one was a shocker. I think it changes my whole look, and probably for the better based on all the compliments I've received. Here's a selfie:

I'm one of those people, who in a snap of my fingers, can change the way I look: alopecia has made me lucky in that respect. But sometimes, when you're trying to achieve goals, you do need to change it up. You need to, not necessarily change your hair, but to change what you're doing in order to achieve your goals: be that a mental change, a physical change or an emotional change.

I'm sure you've heard the definition of insanity about doing the same thing and expecting different results (it's all over the internet, just type it in and observe): it just doesn't work. Yet so many of us do that. We get stuck in our comfort zone, our routine, and we do the same thing over and over and then we berate ourselves with negativity wondering why we can't:get published, get that closet cleaned, be a better mom; you name it! And then we have the tendency to wonder why we can't achieve our goals, when we never really tried in the first place. Such is human nature. 

This year, try something different. Define your goals, then make a game plan to achieve them. Make your goals quantifiable so you can measure whether you are achieving them. For example, I will edit for 30 minutes a day is a much better goal then the overwhelming, "Edit," which has no conceivable beginning, middle or end, and to me looks like plain torture!  Don't give up if you fail the first time. Use that failure to help you learn what to do next time.  Failure is often the key to success, if you persevere, because it's like a teaching: telling you what you did wrong and guiding you towards success.  

If you don't like the way one wig looks, then try on another.  

*This post was inspired by a wonderful chat with @10MinNovelists on how to make definable goals and stick with them.  

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Two Whole Hands

This week, Number One turned two whole hands!

A few years ago, okay, FIVE years ago, he was so excited to be turning, "one whole hand!"  I remember telling a co-worker, and we laughed and laughed about here, and here we are, and he's already ten.  It's hard to believe.  He's grown so much into himself, and so many of the issues of the previous years are resolving themselves as he gets older, which is a blessing to us in so many ways.

Excuse Number One's face!  He had just finished his Veteran's Day performance, and he was tired of standing.

As a parent, it's hard to express how much you love your children.  To the moon and back is never far enough.  Parenting is one of the most frustrating, heartbreaking jobs, but it's amazing to see your children grow and develop, and it is so rewarding when you see them achieving their dreams.

Speaking of dreams, I'm back to working on mine.  I pulled up my novel, previously Semi-Detached, now named No Turning Back, and I requested beta readers through Goodreads.  I received feedback from two people, and they both liked the story.  They gave me pointers on some things I can change to make it better, and mostly I agree with what they said.  It was nice to have unbiased feedback, and positive feedback from people I don't know!  It makes me feel like maybe I can actually get somewhere as a writer, if I keep putting the effort and the time into it. I just wish there were about seven more hours in the day.  There never seems to be enough time.  

In other news, the gods of unfairness are playing against me when it comes to my alopecia areata. About a month ago, I noticed I have a few strands of eyebrow hair.  They are still there: I can feel them.  Well maybe a week go, my underarms started itching, and I noticed today I'm growing a little underarm hair.  Um--can someone just transfer that to my head?  Who wants underarm hair, really?  I said in my mind what my Mom said to me, and what every one's parents said to them in a little cliche voice, "Life is not fair."  I wished for hair, and it popped up in a place where I'm going to shave it off.  Maybe I'll just let it grow long, and move to a commune or something.  Or I could be in the circus, "The Bald Woman with Underarm Hair Down to Her Toes."  Great fodder for a novel.

Bald Boogie! Boogie for NAAF!!! #NAAFboogie

First day back on the blog, and I'm asking for money.  Yeah--I know. 

Check out the link below!  I'm fundraising for the National Alopecia Areata Foundation (NAAF).  This cause is close to my heart, as I have had alopecia since I was 5 years old.  I've struggled with self esteem and self acceptance my whole life due to the loss of my hair. 

When all my hair fell out 3 years ago, I looked in the mirror and could not believe I was bald.  I didn't want to go out and face the world.  I didn't want people staring at me.  As hard as it was for me to accept as an adult, you cannot imagine how much harder it is for a child who doesn't have the words or emotional resources to deal with this disease.  From bullying by others to bullying of oneself for not fitting into the society's mold of "ideal beauty,"  this disease can have a huge emotional and psychological impact.

If you have it in your heart, click the link below and donate to NAAF.  Maybe together we can find a cure. 


https://www.stayclassy.org/fundraise?fcid=345667

#naafboogie

Update: Finding a Way Back to Goal

It’s been awhile since I blogged.  I type that after every blog break, so now that we have that out of the way….

 

Yes, I’m still bald, although I have grown some baby hairs on my head.  My Dad has some crazy medical term for them, which he throws around like everyone will remember and know what he’s talking about.  I can’t remember that term, so I just call them “baby hairs.” 

 

I quit Taekwondo.  I needed a break.  I’ve started taking Zumba, and it’s funny, because I thought I’d really miss Taekwondo but I don’t.  I do miss seeing my Taekwondo friends, but I don't really miss the actual art of TKD.  I guess it served its purpose for me at a certain time in my life and now it’s time to move on to something new and exciting!  In retrospect, Taekwondo did get me out of the house a lot and it kept me exercising.  Without it, I have to be a lot more self motivated. 

 

Sometimes I can motivate myself almost to the moon and other times I’m just so lazy.  I really like to be lazy, until I start feeling guilty about how lazy I am, and I start wondering if I’ll die of one of those medical terms my dad and sister are always throwing around because I just can’t get off my ass and I just have to watch one more episode of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” starring an old high school acquaintance of mine: Glenn Howerton. You know, medical terms like cardiac Infraction, thrombosis or sepsis.  Although, I don’t think you can get sepsis just from being lazy and overweight, unless you’re too lazy to go to the doctor or something. 

 

So now that I have all this time you’d think I’d be productive or something.  One day I did clean the whole house.  The downstairs has actually stayed mostly clean, due to my husband’s daily efforts.  I’ve noticed I clean when I get disgusted with myself or the way things look, but I’m not good at the everyday cleaning.  I’m good at the OCD, OMG, “this better be absolutely clean, and now I have to spend eight hours doing it, because if I’m going to do it then it better be perfect” type cleaning.  Then afterwards, it makes me unhappy and the rest of the family, because I freak when people don’t put things back where they belong, and I start to remind myself of my mother (she’s an absolutely wonderful human being, btw, but she’s an obsessive cleaner, and I don’t want to be one!!!). 

 

I should be editing or writing, or something along those lines but instead I’ve been to Zumba a handful of times, started, painfully slowly I might add, trying to run again, and watched too much Netflix.  I haven’t even read a book.  Maybe it’s the winter funk, or maybe everyone just needs a break now and then, but I’d like to find my way back to a goal…AND SOON. 

 

I did send a little essay off to The Ladies’ Home Journal on “The Best Decision I’ve Ever Made.”  The Ladies’ Home Journal seems so reminiscent of the 1950s, doesn’t it?  You can just imagine all the ladies sitting around exchanging recipes with their beehive hair-dos and their Tupperware parties.  Good times.  I didn’t follow the rules on my first entry, and even though it said “only one entry per person,” I resubmitted the entry again with the correct double spacing and identification information.  What can I say?  I’m a rule breaker, or maybe I’m just not so good at following directions.

 

I still hope to e-publish my novel on Amazon.  My brother has been super busy with his own life, so he hasn’t been able to finish the cover art.  Once it’s done, I’ll e-publish.  In the meantime, I need to get back to writing some more.  I finished the second novel, but I haven’t edited any of it.  It’s been hard for me to think about going back and reading it, as it was not a happy book.  I have two other novels in the work, but I feel blah about them, and I’m not sure why. 

 

I’m happy with my life, but I want to accomplish more, and I just have to find a sustainable way to do that.  I need to figure out how to go about publishing my work, gaining publicity, and getting to a point where I can write for the rest of my life and make a living off of it, plus be happy doing it!  I know these things take time, and I guess I’m just impatient.  I only JUST started writing again, and a lot of writing is about practice and making your writing better by simply doing it every single day.  My characters need more depth, more feeling, and my settings need more description without being wordy.  These are all things I stay up and ponder about, because I think about every single aspect of my life.  I worry about things, and I question myself, and I question my decisions.  I would love to be a risk taker and just throw myself out there and be confident that I’ll succeed.  That’s what it takes.  It’s just getting there.  

 

Who Needs Hair Anyway?

Alopecia areata is a funny little condition.  Being a bald woman elicits stares, questions, and concern for my health.  Overall there is nothing wrong with me health-wise.  My immune system, due to some trigger or some stress, just decided to attack my hair follicles, and now I'm bald.

These are the recent comments my family has received due to my baldness:

Hubby is at the grocery store with all the kids.  The cashier, full of concern says, "And how is your wife feeling? Is she doing OK?"

Hubby just says, "Yeah, she's great!  Thanks for asking." 

I was out of town recently, and my parents took the kids fishing.  There were two little kids there to play with the boys.

Number Two looks at the eight year old boy and says, "My Mommy is bald, did you know that?  My Mommy is bald!"

The 8 year old looks at Number Two with a scoff and says, "I'm not listening to a word you say."

Mostly my kids love the "awe" factor of having a mother without hair. 

Number One had a friend over, and I walked in wearing my baseball cap after a workout.  Number One says to me, "Mommy, take off your hat and show Max you're bald!" 

Nice way to put me on the spot, kid.

I don't mind being bald.  In so many ways it's easier than having hair.  My hair is only washed once a week, and then hung to dry.  It takes no time to get ready in the morning, because all I have to do is put the hair on and not waste any time on styling.  And on hot days, it's easy to make myself cooler by simply taking off my hair. 

The one thing I do miss is eyebrows.  I've been toying with the idea of having them tattooed on my face.  Not sure if I want to commit to that, and I haven't even started looking into prices yet.  But eyebrows round out your face.  They give a visual clue showing people where your face ends and your skull begins.  Without it, I sort of look alien! 

I hope perception of alopecia is changing. I hope people are becoming more aware of this condition, as it currently affects about 2% of the world's population.  In recent years, more research has been done and more attempts to spread the word about alopecia.  Because of its nature as a benign condition, funding is short and therefore a cure is still in the works.

Recently I've been reading Libra by Don DeLillo.  He describes David Ferrie, who was alleged to have been involved in the assassination of JFK.  Ferrie suffered from alopecia areata, as an adult. 

DeLillo states, "Ferrie suffered from a rare and horrific condition that had no cure.  His body was one hundred percent bald.  It looked like something pulled from the earth, a tuberous stem or fungus esteemed by gourmets." 

This description of someone with alopecia made me wince.  I almost want to write DeLillo and ask him why he chose to describe it this way.  Is it to make Ferrie out as a bad guy, some mutant?  I'm not far enough into the book yet to answer that question, but as a sufferer of alopecia I feel his description is harsh.

I'm pretty sure I don't look like some "tuberous stem," pulled from the ground.  I've accepted my
baldness, but still suffer when others feel the need to lower the self-esteem of people just because they're different.  And, I realize it's just a paragraph in a book, and I'm sensitive to it because I've suffered from this condition since I was a child, but I feel like his usage of words makes it seem like alopecia is akin to leprosy or something. 

I'll have to think longer about the eyebrows.  Would adding eyebrows to my face add or detract from the fact that I have no hair.  Do I even need them, or do I just want them because I haven't entirely accepted and become okay with the fact that I look different from everyone else?

Dare to be Bare

Most days I walk through life with a wig on my head.  I go to work with a wig every day, covering up the fact that I have no hair, one of the most unique things about me  Everyone at my office knows I'm bald, but for some reason I don't feel comfortable there without my hair.  It seems unprofessional, and I don't know why.  Plus, since I work in a service-based field, all the questions from customers would probably be a bit overwhelming. 

My Mom and I went out the other day to look for new hair, because I hadn't bought a wig in about a year.  My old one was getting old and dirty, but had lasted the longest out of all my wigs so far.  We went to the same place, and I bought this:

 

 

I absolutely love it!  I think it's cute on me.  The only problem is the bangs swoop into my eyes a little bit more than I'd like. (I probably just need to part it differently)  It has a micro-filament cap on the inside, so you can actually see my scalp through the top instead of the stitches that were on my other wig.  This makes it look more real. 

 

Still, when I'm at home and on weekends I'd rather just walk around bald.  I feel comfortable enough with myself not to cover up the fact that I don't have hair.  It's taken me a long time to accept that I have alopecia areata and my hair probably will not grow back.  I don't mind explaining the disease to folks and telling them what it is, and in fact it can start some pretty funny conversations, especially with kids. 

 

The other day Darling Daughter and I were looking at photos on the phone:

 

DD: Mommy has hair in this photo.

 

Me: Do I always have hair?

 

DD: Looks at me quizzically.  No.  She's probably wondering why I'm asking her these silly questions.

 

Me: Why not?

 

DD: Because you took it off. 

 

As plain as day, those words came out of her mouth.  Pure and simple acceptance even though she knows this is different.  She doesn't remember me any other way, besides bald and with a wig.  I'm sure when she's older she'll question why I don't have hair, but for right now she just accepts it for what it is. 

 

 

 

And speaking of alopecia: yesterday, I received an email for their 28th Annual Conference in St. Louis, Missouri this year. 

 

 

I would seriously LOVE to go to this, but we simply don't have the funds.  I would love to be an inspiration to some children who are struggling with the fact that they are different.  I'd love to hear what they have to say about research, cures, acceptance.  I finally started giving to NAAF this year, because I thought if there's one cause I should support it's this, something so personal to me. 

 

The NAAF website is full of wonderful resources for people with alopecia areata.  It lists support groups, personal stories of people with alopecia, the latest research news, and how to cope when you or your child has just been diagnosed.  A wonderful resource for anyone struggling with this autoimmune skin disease. 



Consider Donating to the NAAF

Today my act of kindness (#8) is very near and dear to my heart.  I committed to donating $8 per month to the National Alopecia Areata Foundation.  This small donation will only be $96 a year, but it's what I can afford.  All I have to do is give up eating lunch out once a month.  $8 per month to help fund research and find appropriate treatments for this disease.

As a child, I suffered to accept myself.  I hated my bald spots.  I was so embarrassed by them.  One year at camp when I was 11 years old, I kept my hair in a ponytail for 5 weeks, because I didn't want anyone to see that I had bald spots.  I think I pulled out my rubber band once and washed it.   I hated being different.  I hated when people stared and ostracized me.  It's hard to be different when you're a kid, because kids just don't understand.  Plus, I didn't understand when I was little that by educating people they'd begin to accept me. 



Wearing a sailor's cap to cover my spots

I'll never forget in 2nd grade, when I had a lot of uncoverable spots and my Mom bought me two wigs: one long and one short.  I used to interchange them all the time, so I know most people knew they were wigs, but apparently not all the kids caught on.  We had a substitute that day, and we were working on something.  Darryl came up to me to ask me something, and his hand caught the side of my wig pulling it off.  Rebecca shouted, "Lauren's head is falling off!"  I was mortified, and the substitute had no idea what to do.  She put my hair in a paper bag and sent it home with me that day, instead of calling my parents or taking me to the Principal's office.  I can look back on this and laugh now, but as a child it traumatized me. 

Knowledge is a powerful thing, and as I grew older I learned this.  When I lost all my hair recently, I was upset.  I was embarrassed again, almost reliving my childhood.  I just want eyelashes and eyebrows and for my head not to be cold when it's 20 degrees out.  I want to fit in, like everyone else does, even if they won't admit it.  But, I began to accept myself and spread my knowledge of alopecia areata to everyone I knew.  I began telling people about the disease, including my children and their friends and my nephew (who insist that I am not a mammal because I don't have hair!). 

With a little more research hopefully they can find a definitive cause of this disease and begin working on a cure.  To be a child with alopecia areata is so hard socially, but it shaped who I am so I wouldn't change it.  I'm just happy I can give back to the NAAF, as they have inspired me to embrace myself and my hair loss and educate those around me about it.  





With my Adorable nephew this year.