Kickin' it

Last week I decided that I was going to see if I could quit this thing cold turkey. I had never really tried before, mostly because I never thought it was possible. I'm more than a head-hair perpetrator, I'm also a skin picker who enjoys (I use the word 'enjoys' incredibly loosely) pulling out hair from other parts of my body. In early high school I plucked out my eyelashes in big sections. Everyone and their brother made it a point to ask what happened and I was pretty quick at coming up with answers.

Little did I know that between the morning of last wednesday and now was going to be one of the most unnecessarily stressful weeks of the semester, great time to kick the habit, right? Lots of issues regarding money and music and a combination of the two. At one point, I was so frustrated and upset that I began looking up pictures of cute animals online to try and calm me down (it usually works). After 20 minutes of that, I stood up from my desk and - I don't know if karma just wanted to come back and slap me around a little more, or what happened - demolished a mug full of old coffee. It spilled all over my desk, all over my bed, all over the floor, and got into the power strip that all my electronics are plugged into.

Was it the straw that broke the camel's back? I could feel this awful knot in my stomach churning and changing until it swiftly bubbled into a fiery rage that could only be released in two forms: hit something or scream. Being a musician and not really wanting to hurt my hands, I took the screaming route. So that's what I did. Instead of reaching up and letting my fingers weed through my hair, I stomped around in my apartment and screamed until my voice was hoarse.

Was this kind of like a tantrum? I guess you could say that. But after I was done, I felt so good. Okay, maybe not good, but much, much better. As I soaked the mess up with a bath towel, my roommate came in and listened to my day with sympathetic ears. I'm so lucky to have her, she is truly one of the best friends I've ever had and one of the best people in the world.




Last year, when I would have the urge to pull, I tried to keep my hands busy. Making oboe reeds was a good way to do this, but it's also a tedious and frustrating process in itself. So I started rolling cigarettes. I don't smoke them, but most of my friends do. For hours at a time, I sat on the couch in my living room and rolled cigarettes. It was surprisingly therapeutic. I found my brain telling my hands to 'roll' instead of to 'pull' for the first time. Sure, rolling cigarettes is nothing glamorous, but for a few hours a week it made me feel okay, and I really liked that.

I've been counting. Since I said I would stop, I have caught myself three times. Two of these times were in my PR class and once was sitting right here in front of my computer. I cannot pinpoint where the trigger is. I don't know what makes me want to pull. Several times since the semester began in September, I found myself waking up and immediately pulling hair. Before I even got out of bed. I would sit at my computer late each night and pull. Writing papers and doing classwork kept me preoccupied but didn't stop the impulse.

So now I'm trying to identify triggers. When I've come up with one, I will let you know.