I am a teenage trichster. This is my blog.

September 15, 2009

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 18:17:44 -0400

So basically, I haven’t updated this thing in forever.

Why, you ask? Because I’ve gotten myself an LJ and have been posting there. Yup.

I’ve been busy, which in turn has been keeping my hands busy. A lot less pulling, hell yes. Let’s hope it stays that way. :D

fuckyeahthebutcher: himynamewas: ourcalisunrise: thecircusawai...

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 18:15:44 -0400

fuckyeahthebutcher:

himynamewas:

ourcalisunrise:

thecircusawaits:

thecalenderhungitself:

bayside:

This is what happens when extreme ads for The Butcher are made. I make a better one.

oh my god

He can also play the bass, don’t forget.

This is why I follow this page. Stuff like this. But yes, he DOES play bass, too (and loves oatmeal for sure)

August 9, 2009

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 22:43:05 -0400

So, I just realized that I haven’t pulled a single freakin’ hair in two days.

is addicted to this song For real. “Percussion...

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 16:28:00 -0400

*is addicted to this song*

For real.

“Percussion Gun”—White Rabbits

August 5, 2009

Wed, 05 Aug 2009 00:21:36 -0400

I haven’t updated this thing in forever. I guess it just hasn’t been on my mind (wow I say that often, don’t I?). I’ve been getting by, I guess. The boredom and insomnia that has taken hold over me this summer has almost been unbearable, but I’m surviving through it. I almost can’t wait until school starts up again to get my hands on something else to do.

In other news, Blink x FOB x PATD x some other crappy dude next freaking week!

(I’m stoked. :P)

July 18, 2009-The Walk

Sat, 18 Jul 2009 21:48:00 -0400

So, it’s been awhile. I apologize, but I guess this wasn’t the first thing on my mind. Last Sunday night, a week after my grandfather died, my other grandfather (my dad’s father) had a heart attack. He’s doing okay, though, which is awesome. He’s already had so many heart attacks that the doctors have lost count. Some have went undiagnosed. Hopefully, he finally changes his diet.

As predicted, I’ve been quite trichy lately, which is not good.

I’ve been quite addicted to the song “The Walk” by Imogen Heap (I’ll post it tomorrow after I download it) and it’s lyrics really stuck with me, so I wrote. And here’s what came out of it (The chunks of italics are lyrics from the song):

It’s not meant to be like this—not what I planned at all.
I don’t want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault.

Tossing and turning, squirming and clutching sheets, I lie awake, plagued with insomnia. Tomorrow I will feel narcoleptic, but for now, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that I control myself, but stay calm and relaxed, to allow my body to finally shut down and go to sleep. Millions of thoughts run through my mind and as much as I try, I cannot calm it.

Inside out, upside-down, twisting beside myself.
Stop that now.

I feel my fingers grasp at my hair and I quickly pull my hand away, grimacing and disgusted with myself. Every night is the same thing, and every night, I’m sick with hatred for myself. Something’s wrong with me, but that’s now how I see it. I see a lack of control, a lack of discipline. I see a masochistic, selfish excuse for a human being. What I see is a coward. I hide behind a disguise every single day. No one knows the real me.

It’s not safe in here. I feel a weakness coming on.

By the time I feel my hand in my hair again, it’s too late. The voice of my thoughts, my own voice, acts as the devil on my shoulder. “Just twirl it, Kacie,” it whispers. “It won’t hurt to just twirl it.”

If there was supposed to be an angel on the other side, he had gone missing, nowhere to be found.

“Just one,” my own evil voice whispers. “No one will notice just one.”

I pull it. I go against my better judgment and listen to the masochistic side of me. And it feels good. That itch had been bothering me for so long and now that I have scratched it, I want more.

Oh, I was doing so well. I feel a weakness coming on.

I feel tears stinging my eyes as my conscious returns, telling me to stop, telling me what I wanted to do all along. I want to be able to stop this. I never wanted to harm myself. I just couldn’t help it. But even I don’t believe that. With another glance at my alarm clock and the groan that followed, I reach over the side of my bed and grab a pair of gloves that I had placed there.

I wipe my eyes, take a deep breath and slide my fingers into the gloves. I curl up in my blankets again, keeping my hands as far from my head as I possibly can.

Inside out, upside-down, twisting beside myself.
Stop that now.
You’re as close as it gets without touching me.
Don’t make it harder than it already is.
I feel a weakness coming on.

The squirming continues, now the heat from the gloves almost unbearable. I contemplate taking them off, but the once missing angel takes a stand. I put my hands under me and close my eyes, willing myself to go to sleep.

I think about other things. I think about my new favorite song, the movie that I watched with my family before bed, the prospect of what tomorrow will bring. I become lost in my own thoughts, not falling asleep, but going into a trance of sorts. The quiet and still of my room provide no distraction and soon enough, I feel myself dozing off.

I bolt awake again, my now gloveless hands in my hair again, grasping, clutching, and pulling. The tears come back, but this time, I let it out.

Big trouble—losing control.
Primary resistance at a critical low.

The disgust I feel for myself raises, rising nausea as well, almost enough to make me dart for the bathroom. I lay in my bed, wrapped in my blankets, crying and now giving up on sleep. There’s no use trying anymore. The sun’s coming up and I’m even less calm than before. I take deep breaths and attempt to relax.

No response on any level, red alert, this vessel’s under siege,
Total overload, all systems down, they’ve got control.
There’s no way out, we are surrounded.

My alarm rings and I groan as I smack the button to turn it off.

Freeze, awake here forever. I feel a weakness coming on.

I force myself to get out of bed and put on my disguise for another day to hide yet again from judging eyes. I put my hair up in a tight bun, making sure there are no loose strands to tempt me.

I look in the mirror and what I see isn’t me. I don’t even know who I really am anymore.

It’s not meant to be like this—not what I planned at all.
Why make me feel like this? It’s definitely all your fault.

July 6, 2009

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 00:09:49 -0400

Not so good.

I’ve been really trichy lately, but it’s about to get worse.

My parents came and picked me up from Brother’s house and gave us both some terrible news. My grandpa had a heart attack and passed away today.

Let me tell you a story about my grandpa. He was my mom’s step-dad, so when I was little, I had three grandpas. I thought this was so cool! He’s from Michigan and Ohio, and he talked differently than we PAians did. When I was learning how to talk, he tried to help me. He pointed to his shoe and said, “Tennis shoe.”

Well, I had already learned the word for that, so I looked him in the eye and said, “No. SNEAKER.”

“Tennis shoe,” he said again.

“SNEAKER!” I said louder.

This went on for a good while until he gave up (I’m quite stubborn sometimes). Do you know how little kids often give random nicknames to their relatives because they don’t know how to or what to call them? For example, my older brother gave my mother’s biological father the nickname “Grandpa Fuzzy” because he gave fuzzy kisses because of his huge beard.

Well I named this grandpa “Grandpa Tennis-Shoes.”

Sixty-one years old, but you were still too young to go. Grandpa Tennis-Shoes, I love you and miss you already. Rest in peace.

July 5, 2009

Sun, 05 Jul 2009 16:01:10 -0400

Back at Brother’s house with the pooch! Man, I love this dog. He’s sleeping right beside me. Unf. So adorable.

My brother turned into one excellent dude. He was a rebel growing up; shouting matches were the norm for him and my dad (his step-dad). He could be a real jerk, but he grew up. It’s about time!…he’s twenty-five. haha

His friend Eric (who was his best friend in high school) just transferred to Florida for college. Brother offered to drive him down, so he and his girlfriend left last night for Florida. They’re going to have a few hours on the beach before they hit the road and come back. They’re hoping to be home sometime tomorrow in the early evening. So I’m here until then.

My parents dropped me off here after my aunt’s 4th of July party. That was fun. There was swimming and BBQing and lots of Guitar Hero (one of my cousins got me to beat a bunch of songs for him :P). It was a good time.

That’s all for now. I’ve got my bi-monthly migraine, so Imma join the pooch and take a nap. :)

—TeenageTrichster

July 3, 2009

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 23:41:56 -0400

Today, we went to the pool. I was rather worried about today. I kept my hair in a pony the entire time (which was a hard thing to do) to keep my bald patch covered. I was worried that I’d lose the ponytail holder and then have my hair part in just the right way to show it off to the world (because my luck is just that awesome), reminding Mother that yes, I do have “a problem.”

I don’t remember the last time we talked about my trich. I think it was when I was fourteen or fifteen (wow, it’s been five years since then?) when my grandmother was taking me and Sister to Denver to visit our seldom seen relatives. Two weeks before the trip, Mother pulled me aside and said, “Kacie, if I see some growth on your eyelids by the time you leave, I will give you a little extra spending money.” Then, when I got home from the trip (which was like two weeks), we were at the pool on one of her days off. Sister was off swimming and I was lying on my towel, attempting to even out my softball tan (my knees are permanently browned from all those years on the field—really, you should see it). She looked over at me and said, “I see your eyelashes are growing back.”

And that was it. When my family would bring up “the issue,” I never knew what to say. It was always so awkward for me. I know that they were trying to help, but really, all I wanted to do was blend into the background and have as little people notice it as possible. They put me on the spotlight at the dinner table in front of my three siblings, or in front of the whole family at a Memorial Day picnic (earning lots of “why would you do that?!!?” “you pull out your eyelashes?!” “you’re insane!”). And I’d just make myself as small as I could and throw the excuses at them. Said excuses have become second nature now. Isn’t that sad?

So there I was. Poor, little, eyelashless me. Metaphorically huddled in the metaphorical corner, out of sight and out of mind. If they couldn’t see the problem, then it wouldn’t be problematic, right?

This is why my favorite book is The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky (I think that’s his name). I read it a few weeks ago (I may have mentioned it before…) and I can just relate to the kid. I’m the kind of girl that sits back and watches everything happen like you would something on the television. I seldom become involved, and when I do, it’s a very minor role.

Maybe I should follow the advice of Charlie’s teacher in the book and “participate.”

Hmm…

Ever since that beckie0 trichotillomania video that I posted, I kind of want to do something like that. Maybe that’s how I can “participate.” Step one of ridding myself of the shame (or some of it) is to let people know that I’ve got it.

Now, that is a scary thought. “Hello, family/friend/someone I know! I have trichotillomania. I pull out my hair.” I couldn’t do that. But, the internet always has some level of anonymity. Even if my face is out there, only those who search for it can find it. I wouldn’t be putting it in the faces of my family.

So, I kind of want to do a video blog. A “vlog” if you will. I’m slowly coming out of my shell. You might see my face. (Hell, you just saw my name a few paragraphs up *gasp!*)

I don’t know if anyone reads this from time to time. I don’t have a site meter to keep tabs on lurkers, but if you do happen to come across my blog and take the time to read it, thank you. The few comments that I received have made me smile, because even though I assume that no one is out there like me, you’re a reminder that I’m not alone. And even though I’m terrible at frequenting/commenting other blogs, I support you so much.

—TeenageTrichster (who now has a name!)

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #4 Cobra Starship—Good Girls...

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 23:47:39 -0400

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #4

Cobra Starship—Good Girls Go Bad (feat. Leighton Meester)

Better late than never right?

I chose this song because no matter how bad I feel, this song just picks me up. I can pick myself up off the couch and just dance around. This has nothing to do with my trichotillomania (which most of my posts have been like lately), but when I’m feeling down due to anything (including trich) I just feel so much better while listening to this song. I love it.

I’ve been listening to it a lot in the past hour. Why the past hour? Because Sister came home, that’s why. She’s never here anymore, and she acts like she owns the place. Does she realize that she’s twenty months younger than me? Where does she get off bossing me around and/or talking to me like I’m twelve? I don’t know if she realizes this, but it’s really pissing me off. We were talking about a song earlier and I sang the first like four words and she glares at me and says, “Don’t sing.” Bitch.

I’ve been doing a lot of complaining about my family lately, and I really don’t mean to. They usually don’t bother me so much, but my sister has really been irking me. I go to ask her a question and she looks at me for about five seconds before her attention is drawn to something really stupid. Then she looks back at me and is like, “Oh, did you say something?”

YES I said something. I was asking you a question! This happened like last week:

ME: Sister, can you empty the dishwasher for me so I can do the dishes? (It should be noted here that at my house, our chores are divied up like taking turns. She does the dishes, emptys the diswasher, and then it’s my turn to do the same. It was her turn to empty the dishwasher)
SISTER: Yes, I will.
THE NEXT DAY
MOTHER: Why didn’t you do the dishes yesterday?
ME: Sister never emptied the dishwasher. I asked her before she left for her boyfriend’s.
SISTER: You never said that.

*groans*

*clicks play of new Cobra song* (Not that it matters, because she keeps interrupting me and making me pull out the headphones so she can say something dumb to me. haha)

(I am so stoked for their new album, “Hot Mess” in like August!)

June 28, 2009.

Sun, 28 Jun 2009 13:31:00 -0400

Today’s just a bad day so far.

It’s my dad’s birthday, so he and mom went shopping…without me. They didn’t think I wanted to be woken up.

The reason I was still sleeping was because I woke up with a migraine, took one of my pain pills and zonked out. I just woke up (it’s like 1:30, by the way). I did want to be woken up, because I told my mom that “the next time there’s a trip shopping, I need to buy sunglasses.” I live like an hour away from any shopping, so there aren’t a lot of shopping trips. Rats. Looks like I’m going to have to wait another few weeks before I can be out in the sun without squinting, causing further migraines.

My sister’s at her boyfriend’s house (like usual) and just texted me asking if I thought her boyfriend’s friend (let’s call him Drew) was attractive. This Drew just happened to be at a movie trip with one of my friends the other night and we all went out to eat. Seems to be that Drew likes me, but I don’t like him like that, and things might get complicated. Wherever Sister and boyfriend are, Drew is. So if they’re here, Drew’s here, and I don’t want to deal with it. Blah. I’ll be nice and act like my sister never sent that text, but still….Blah.

Also, because Sister is at the boyfriend’s house and my parents are out shopping, I woke up to a empty house with no idea where anyone was. That sucks. Anyone ever feel forgotten? I just did.

UPDATE: I almost wish that Mom had a migraine too, because if she did, then Dad would actually respect it and turn the freakin’ TV down. I know it’s his birthday, but this is every time. Mom has a headache, he whispers, turns off all the lights and does everything he can to make her feel comfortable. If I have a headache, nothing changes. Thanks, Dad.

June 22, 2009

Mon, 22 Jun 2009 23:16:06 -0400

Sister’s graduation party was a hit. I even made 90 bucks! I didn’t get to have a party last year when I graduated because we couldn’t find time for it between softball and other grad parties, so I got two cards this year from relatives who INSISTED that they give me something. Thanks!

There was badminton, horseshoes, canoeing, and just all around fun.

And now I’m exhausted. And I’m being an insomniac again and I’m stressed and I’m pulling. And I just need to STOP! *sighs* Wishful thinking.

In other news, one of my favorite bands is putting out a new EP tomorrow (I think) and I’m excited to get my hands on a copy. I love them. I also think I’m going to put a few bucks worth of points on my Zune account to get me some new good music that I can’t find anywhere.

William Beckett’s SNMC song has been running through my head. All day.

^—-Imogen Heap: “Hide and Seek” in case you were wondering. An eerie, creepy, yet loveable song, in my opinion.

I’m tired. I’m bored. *Goes off to find something to do that will not wake up her parents.*

June 20, 2009

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 22:43:00 -0400

So, today wasn’t as eventful as I thought it was going to be. My parents have a funny way of doing things like this. They get me prepared for something and then take it away, good or bad. Luckily for me today, they took away the bad thing: cleaning/cooking/being their lackey.

I woke up at about 8:30 (Yeah, I actually set an alarm), which was sucky enough. I go downstairs and everyone is in their pajamas and just watching TV (well, trying would be a better way to describe it because the storm had just knocked out the sattelite signal and was slowly regaining it back, much more slowly than Sister had wanted). Mom and Dad were on their laptop, looking for the best recipes for potato and macaroni salad for Sister’s graduation party.

I shrug, sigh (“Meh.”), and go back upstairs. I checked my e-mail, tumblr (gotta get the latest of my celebrity favorites’ news!), and other random stuff on the interwebz. Did some writing. Did a lot of reading (finished The Perks Of Being A Wallflower. It’s now on my list of favorite books). Maybe even dozed off a little bit.

I went downstairs to get a drink and Sister was reading a book. She informed me that the parents went to the store. So I got my drink, toasted some Pop Tarts, and went back upstairs, where I spent most of the remainder of my day. I listened to a lot of music. I swear I listened to Homesick about 15 times today (and I even listened to other music!).

Then, Mother was too tired from all of her cooking (and running Sister all over the place for college crap) to make dinner so we fended for ourselves. Then Father rented Taken via PayPerView and it was okay.

And here I am. And that’s my helluva boring day.

Should be better tomorrow. Family, friends, good food, good times. :D

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #3 A Day To Remember—If It...

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 09:27:09 -0400

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #3

A Day To Remember—If It Means A Lot To You

I don’t know what it is about this song that I love so much, but I do. This band is getting to be one of my favorites. I’ve been listening to their new album Homesick for days now and am loving it.

This song has nothing to do with my trich. It doesn’t make me feel anything and I can’t relate to it. It’s just a break up song. And for some reason, I love it, so I thought I’d share.

It features Sierra Kusterbeck from VersaEmerge. Lovely voice, no?

June 19, 2009

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 02:00:24 -0400

It is actually 1:44 AM on the 20th as I’m starting to type this, but let’s just call it the 19th for the sake of things, okay?

Today was a pretty good day overall. When I woke up, my sister was leaving to go hang out with her boyfriend, which was good for both of us. She hadn’t seen him since Tuesday (because he was grounded from his car) and I wanted the house all to my self. At eleven-something, I got two text messages: one from Sister, one from Mother.

Sister asked, “Five bucks to empty the dishwasher?”

Mom said, “Make sure the dishes get done today because I’ve got a lot to do tonight.” (For the record, Mother didn’t do anything that she had planned to do.)

So, I fiddled around with my laptop and Zune (LOVE THIS THING) for good while, wrote a bit, and then finally dragged myself into the kitchen to do some chores. I brought my computer into the kitchen and plugged it in, so I could jam out (A Day To Remember FTW!) while I did my stuff. I emptied the dishwaser and did the dishes. Then, I was somehow motivated to swiffer the floors, clean the stove top, and scrub the counters. Weird.

Then, I turned up my music (Coheed and Cambria now) so I could hear it in the living room as I continued my cleaning rampage. I put all the video gaming stuff in order (Mother and Father randomly bought a Wii the other night and the evidence was strewn about the room), took care of everything that was mine, piled up Sister’s stuff to get it out of the way, and vacuumed. Go me.

Then, I did some laundry, and attacked my room, cleaning it.

And I hardly pulled at all. I should keep doing this cleaning business, but my parents might become suspicious. They don’t like to talk about my “problem” and frankly, I don’t like to bring it up. I’ll just tell them that I was bored.

So I decided to reward myself. I had no plan to do so, until my Dad knocked on my bedroom door and was like, “So, we’re going to Borders to get your sister’s grad gift. You coming?”

So I went. I had my eye on this certain book for AGES so I figured I deserved to spend a few bucks to get it. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. Highly recommended.

It’s about this boy who writes anonymous letters to someone he knows and looks up to, thinking that only he/she will ever understand. Maybe that’s why I feel like writing. I don’t know.

But I’m halfway through the book already and I’m not the least bit tired.

But I should probably go to bed because we’ve got a busy day ahead of us as we prepare for my sister’s graduation party. Hmmph. Goodnight, internet.

Post Script: We got my sister Sony’s version of the Kindle for graduation. She is infatuated already. I only hope she lets me put Pride and Prejudice and Zombies on it and lets me read it. Fingers crossed.

Post Post Script: I’m going to try to do SMMC #3 when I wake up in several hours. I’m just too beat to do it now. (You probably don’t care, internet, but I like it. So there.)

So, I caught myself pulling. Oh well. I don’t have too much keeping me busy, which sucks. But,...

Wed, 17 Jun 2009 13:10:05 -0400

So, I caught myself pulling. Oh well.

I don’t have too much keeping me busy, which sucks. But, I’ve been helping coach my sister’s softball team and we’ve had a game almost every night, so that’s good. We’ve been having some fun. I miss playing, though. *sighs*

That’s all for now because I don’t know what else to say.

I have not pulled all day. Yes! Not even a single hair. Oh man, I’m so proud of myself. My...

Mon, 08 Jun 2009 21:29:00 -0400

I have not pulled all day. Yes! Not even a single hair. Oh man, I’m so proud of myself. My next goal is one week. Can I do it?

Here’s my checklist:
~~One Day~~
One Week
Two Weeks
Three Weeks
One Month

It will be hard, but I’m hoping I can do it. :)

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #2 Jack’s Mannequin— The...

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 20:13:40 -0400

SATURDAY MORNING MUSIC CLUB #2

Jack’s Mannequin— The Resolution

See? Sunday evening. Not always Saturday morning.

There’s a lot that I love about this song. I’m not going through anything like he is. I do not have cancer and I am not going through chemotherapy or anything like it.

There’s a lot that I’m still learning. I’m learning more and more about me every day, whether it be about Trich or about me as a person. But I think I’m letting go to find my body is still burning. There have been many times where I’ve said, “I’m throwing in the towel. I’m done. I can’t beat this.” But then I find something to keep me fighting against it. Sometimes it’s a comment from a family member or one from a friend. But I so desperately want to control this, that I find I am still willing to do what it takes, at least for a little while.

And you got me living in the past. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about how it used to be. The days when I had the most unusual hair style in order to hide my bald patches, hiding behind my glasses and hoping that no one notices my completely bare eyelids. The days where I’d stare at my dinner plate to avoid an awkward dinner conversation about it. I’m still not comfortable with my body (particularly my hair), but it is so different from those days. But I can’t help but think about it. It’s kind of like motivation, if you think about it. It hurts, but it helps.

I need a light in the dark as I search for the resolution. There’s really nothing I can say about this line. It just rings so true. I need light, I need light.

Gramma Burns are the worst kind of burns. You know, like Kelso screaming, “BURN!” One of...

Thu, 04 Jun 2009 20:43:20 -0400

Gramma Burns are the worst kind of burns. You know, like Kelso screaming, “BURN!” One of those. But with Grammas, it’s oh so much worse because they don’t even know they’re doing it. Grammas don’t think about what they’re saying.

Gramma: “Hey, wasn’t it you that pulled out your eyelashes? I heard that a lot of people do that. Do they ever stop?”

Me: “Sometimes, but even then it is really hard.”

Gramma: “They’ve given it a name now. Tricky whatever.”

Me: “Trichotillomania, Gramma. It’s a disorder.”

Gramma: “They have a disorder for everything nowadays. Really, it’s just an excuse for poor behavior.” *waves hand as if to brush it off*

Thanks, Grandma. I love you, too.

This really hit home to me. Tears were definitely shed. I hope...

Thu, 04 Jun 2009 15:22:43 -0400

This really hit home to me. Tears were definitely shed. I hope that I will one day be able to come out like she has. I’m totally subscribing to her video channel.