Pulling my hair out (literally).

I just deleted 68,000 emails. I meant to keep only 4 of them. They were responses to my last email that went out Saturday that I hadn't yet replied to. But I went so fast they accidentally got trashed.

So if one of them was you, I'm sorry, even though I miss a few responses now and then I try to answer each one. Thank you for writing. 

For the one that wanted to know the oil I use on my psoriasis, it is this. It is amazing.

For the one who told the story about their dog who pulls, I loved it, so inspiring.

For those who just said the sweetest things, thank you.

I have never had a zero inbox. I figure if I need something bad enough, there is another way to find it.

All the things that weigh us down, I know there is freedom from it all. I'm inside of it, the search. I am looking at the shadows of the stuff that keeps me weighed down, that hurts me in the highs and lows of addiction.

.......

I used to pull my hair out. In clumps. After my divorce I would just sit and pull and something about the feeling of it coming out of my head relaxed me. (There is a fancy name, Trichotillomania.)

Mostly, I don't do it anymore. It is when I'm completely disconnected from my self, numbing, I'll catch myself doing it. I have one spot at the top left of my head that if you really looked, would indicate hair loss over time, I imagine I've been doing it for a long time, though I have no awareness of doing it until the divorce clumps.

My daughter recently told me she had started to do it and has broken herself of the habit by trading it for a new, much less harmful one. She would pull her hair out piece by piece. 

I told people that I lost half my hair after the divorce. And it was true, it was falling out in clumps, but I was pulling those clumps. I have no idea how much would have stayed in my head if I hadn't pulled.

When I would go to sweep the wooden floor, the dustpan would fill with my hair and I felt the sting of shame and the numbness of denial.

It is brutal when you realize your kid has one of your things. But also, I could get it, I understood. I know she isn't broken for doing it, I know that there is an underlying high anxiety disorder (not thrilled about that word) that we both share. I love her ability to help herself through a change in habit. 

We both have to actively work to manage our anxiety. We both get panic attacks, managed incredibly well with CBD oil, we use City & Sea Trading.

These are the parts of Being Mama that we can feel shame around, wishing that our stuff didn't have to be their stuff. And. No one will understand her like I am able to, because I know.

I just checked my inbox. I have 6 emails. From 68,000 to 6.

Where I feel shame, I'm going to tell the truth. If anything, I hope you'll feel safe doing that too.