Christina's Blog

It’s Sunday morning, and I am coming off of an incredibly busy week. There’s a part of me that wants to post here daily, but that is effectively curtailed by the feeling that I must write something profound, or not write at all. Hmmm. One thing I do know, is that as I become more comfortable with writing, the ease of sharing this way will increase.

As I read through the comments left over the past week, I gave some thought as to how to share my own recovery process.  To identify the steps that have given me the freedom I experience today, and to do so in a way that makes sense!

(Sometimes I don’t make sense, as I get off on incredibly convoluted tangents.)

The first real step in my own recovery process happened before I knew others, before I knew there was a name for the behavior.  It was 1990. I was about 3 years sober, and I had pulled the night before for hours before falling into an exhausted sleep.  That morning, when I woke up, my scalp was burning, and I was again overwhelmed with a devastating sense of failure. I started crying. I felt so utterly helpless, and out of control.

How could I live like this? Would it be better to die?  The answer was – maybe.

All I wanted was to be authentic, to live comfortably in my own skin. Yet no-one knew my real story, because I was deeply afraid of what would happen if I told the truth.

I lay there crying, and finally crawled out of bed. I was on my knees, filled with sorrow as I asked once again for answers. I was so tired of hiding. As I was becoming healthier, the dichotomy of rejecting a whole and very real part of my life experience was becoming unbearable.  And that was the key.

As I sat huddled on the floor with my nose running profusely, looking within, I realized I could not proceed unless I owned the truth of my experience. This WAS my life, the only life I knew. And if life was a gift as some said, than all of my experience was a part of this gift. I could not reject part of it simply because I didn’t like it. I made a decision right then to shine the light of exposure on this hidden corner of my soul, to open the door a crack and see what winds would blow through.

So I told some people that day, and when I opened my mouth to talk about it, I thought that I would pass out. I was shaking, and feeling faint. All I said was ” I pull out my hair, and I don’t know why. And it is causing me great pain.”  or something to that effect.

That was the beginning of owning my experience. Being real, whether it was socially acceptable or not. Making bridges of communication, first with myself in the realization that I needed to “own the trich” and then in communicating with others.

There are moments in life for each of us, where we make an uncomfortable but necessary decision – one that has profound effect on the direction we head in.

So, from then til now – what a difference! To come back to my topic this morning, of “coming to terms” with my unwanted behavior, it is not about liking it, or being okay with it, it is about accepting it. 

Acceptance is a huge step on the road to recovery.  Here’s how I describe it sometimes.

Would I send a small child down a dark urban alley in the middle of the night? Absolutely not. Why? Because I accept the fact that it is dangerous. Do I like this? No, but I accept it and make decisions accordingly. This is why I don’t step in front of traffic also. Why? Because I accept that the vehicles could cause me great harm. Do I like the fact that I am impatiently waiting to cross? No, but I accept it, and act appropriately when the light changes.  The same with my picking and pulling. Do I like the fact that I have suffered greatly from these problems? No, but I do fully accept it, and now am choosing to act accordingly, in ways that promote freedom.

I had to come to an understanding that it was real, was not going to disappear with wishing, praying, talking, or ignoring it. Or at least it hadn’t done so yet. It was the elephant in the livingroom, and I needed to get honest about the immense space it was taking up in my life!

Today, thank goodness this process is easier, because there’s more information available. But essentially, the outcome is the same. Coming to terms with the facts, instead of rejecting them.  It is only from this place that real change occurs.

What I find so interesting, is that for many of us, this is really a huge stickler.  The love/hate relationship with a little-understood behavioral disorder, one that works for us in many ways, and works against us in yet many others.

But in essence, the simple fact for me was I needed to accept the truth. I had this problem, and hiding had not helped. It meant stepping into the unknown, trusting that if I stayed with what was real in my life, that answers might unfold as a result.  I certainly knew that they hadn’t as a result of how I had lived in the past.

Like I said, I do go off on tangents! In closing, let me leave you with an image. If I want to go out of the room I am in, I must know from what point I am starting. I must accept that I am sitting, and must stand up if I want to move in a new direction. I can’t just look at the door and wish myself through. I must be right here, in my body, and move accordingly. 

I also need to acknowledge that I may not want to get up yet, to go into the other room and do the dishes, or whatever. Maybe I want to stay here, seated and write a bit more.

With picking and pulling, it has been the same. I need to understand where I am at with it, how willing I really am, before I can move from this point. I need to understand the intensity of my attachment, and the degree of motivation to let go. 

Until we have a better biological understanding that leads to more effective treatment, the best tools we have today are the changes in awareness that lead to changes in our nervous system. Through the invitation to practice new behaviors based on new understanding of what we are trying to do, we CAN reprogram our nervous systems. Yes, it takes work, and motivation and comitment, but either you make that choice, and move toward real change, or you simply don’t.

Now that I have written these words, I have to smile.  I will work to make my next post more concrete!

Much love, Christina