I wrote a post on the forum last night after I wrote my blog. I just had to get it out, had to share my story, had to tell them that I felt just as damn frightened as all of them, and that my fear was fresh and the wound was still bleeding.
It actually was truly relaxing, and therapeutic. I don't know why I keep surprising myself every time I write and find a therapeutic calmness about it - this used to be the way that I got myself through the dark nights before. Just me, a pen and my journal. Didn't even have to be just us either, I'd crouch in a soft couch at a lame house party, a beer in hand or I'd slip into the depths of the study halls at the library and nestle my face into the blank pages of my journals that begged to hear about all my tears and all my struggles.
But regardless, it was a lot more helpful than I thought it'd be. And the people of the group actually responded. One of the women said that I was wise beyond my years, especially for being diagnosed with AA pretty young. They totally understood how I felt, and what I was going through. The denial, the separation anxiety from each and every strand of hair. It's agonizing...they know, they watched every strand of their hair fall out, too. Over the couch, onto the carpet, all over my pillow in the morning, at the bottom of my feet in the shower stall, all across the bathroom. It's like watching your dirty secrets follow you around your house, devastating you at every corner. Letting you know that there is no escape, there is only a time of recognition and submission.
They told me that over the mountain, there is hope. Over the angry slopes - there is a peace, there is a calmness that slips over you in the night - an ability to let your hair slip away, and your ability and strength to say goodbye, and never look back. So I guess that's where I am headed. Over those mountains in the distance...do you see them as clear as I do? Do they glare at you, too?
Your mountain may not be AA, it could be something else. It could be as small as that term paper that is due the first day of school in about two weeks, or it could be simple as that ugly truth that is hanging at the tip of your tongue that you have to say, or it could be as big as deciding what next road you need (want, desire, crave, depend on) to take when you hit that fork ---
Regardless, we're all on that journey. And I know that we're on it together. I am lucky to have such great friends who have encouraged and inspired me to keep writing, to keep on trekking - the journey is hardly over yet, in fact, I have yet to really get started.
So thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for your kind words and your support. I know that someday I will get to that point where I can be the strongest that I can be, and be accepting of it all. I just know that right now it's all so fresh. It just happened less than a month ago - and I am still in this state of bewilderment not knowing really if it has all sunk in yet. I know that one day in the next few months, I will probably be on the DC metro, or in the car with my friends and just break down to the realization of it all. Because that's when the reality hits me the most - when I am not really dwelling on it. But that day will come, and I know that when it does, even though I may or may not be ready for it, it will be ready for me.
I can't imagine yet what life will be like completely bald - it's still such an astonishing thing that I have all these bald spots rearing their shininess in my face every morning.
My boss told me today that her "patience is wearing thin" because yesterday I was having side effects from the steroids (it's only been a week and I suspected that I might get headaches or something of the like, because that's what the doctor assured me might occur) and had to leave work an hour early. It's almost like people like her believe that I woke up one day and thought that I would just make my hair fall out for no reason at all. She kept telling me when it first started that it really wasn't that bad, and that I should just get over it because it's just hair - how easy is it for her to say that when she has a full head of hair on her head? What if it were her? She doesn't come home with me every night - she doesn't stare into the mirror after I take a shower and see the clumps of hair that are falling all over my shoulders. She doesn't hear my heart crumbling every time I find another bald spot.
I am so glad that you guys have been so supportive and such a big help -you just don't even know. I know that I have struggled through a lot of things in my life, and this is just one more thing to add to the list. It's just the initial shock that is always the killer.
But there are still those mountains to climb. There are still those steeps slopes to conquer. I'm still on my way to braving this Arirang.