In the Valley

 

Losing my hair was one big emotional roller coaster ride. It wasn't an experience for the faint of heart. "But it's only hair!", you say.  Not exactly.

 

In our society, and in other cultures, it's not just hair. Hair is many things to many people. Hair is on the most basic of levels, what frames our face. It defines what we look like and carves out our unique look. It can be our identity card so to speak. It also protects certain areas on our bodies from outside elements that could cause our body harm. It can be a sign of health, social status and wealth. If you are ill,  your hair lacks luster, the way you wear your hair, and how expensively you've styled it can certainly determine your social status and wealth. 

 

For me, it was how I showed my creativity and what framed my face. It was my identity. No matter what was going on in my life, I could always change my hairstyle to make me feel better or pretty today. I was always a creative person and I frequently changed my hair. It was how I expressed myself. 

 

When I lost my hair, I didn't just lose my hair. I lost a part of who I was. I lost a physical part of my body. It felt like I had lost a limb or a finger. I lost a major part of how I expressed myself, my prettiness...I lost my identity. I lost me.

 

It's that way for most women I've spoken to that have experienced hair loss, and regardless of how the hair was lost. I've spoken to men who have gone through the same but for women its much more intense because of the way we judge women in society by their looks. Some view their alopecia as a disfigurement and depending what type of alopecia one might have, it certainly is just that. Medically, studies have shown that people suffering from hair loss experience high levels of anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and other psychological disorders and require medical treatment in many cases. With proper medical treatment, cognitive therapy, group therapies, and good family and friend support systems most individuals can overcome the difficulties associated with having alopecia. 

 

 

My Valley

 

 

 

As my hair fell out, it would grow back in small areas, always teasing me, torturing me. It drove me crazy. One day it had me thinking my hair was going to grow all the way back, then it would just take it away all over again! It made me think one day that I never had the disease at all. People close to me thought I was shaving my head to get attention. I felt like I was going crazy. I kept morphing into all these different looks. One day, half a head of hair, another day all the hair in the back was gone, or sometimes it would grow back with patches all over. My hair would even grow back a different texture or color! Then came the worst! The hair would grow in with two hairs coming out of one hair follicle, bleeding inflamed, crusting over, painful and the last step? It is called burn out. It's when the scar tissue grows inside the hair follicle. When that happens, no hair will ever grow out of that follicle again. The area would become dark on the surface of the scalp and the skin on the scalp would become very thin or in some cases, lumpy indentations would appear. I just kept morphing into these different creatures! This to me was the hardest part. At this point, I just wanted all the hair to fall off and never come back. It was at that point that I hated the idea of having hair at all! It became impossible to know how to dress for the weather or for work and/or special occasions. All this and the pain pushed me over an emotional edge. I became obsessed with worrying about my hair or lack thereof. Just when I thought I had seen the worst. I woke up one day and my eyebrows, eyelashes and pubic hair were gone! My complexion was two shades lighter. I looked like a blank canvas. My nails were thin and brittle.( read about how alopecia affects nails) I became so depressed. I lost so much weight. Eventually, I became anorexic.  I had a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized.

 

 

 

 

 

Once I was stabilized and home from the

hospital, I realized that I had to do things

differently; but what?

 

I started by taking inventory. I took inventory of me. What did I even like about me? What didn't I like? That's when I had my magic moment. It was simple. It had to start with me.  Okay, now what?

How did I want things to be in the end? What was my goal?...I wanted to like me.

What about work? My children? Friends?

 

My formula- Self-Love + X = Self-Acceptance

 

Everything after that is a cakewalk.