What a week

Last night an interesting conversation came up at my support group meeting for Alopecia Areata. "Where are the psychological resources for this experience of hair loss". Really interesting input about Alopecian's experiences with psychologists and therapy in general. I was really excited to hear about the resources that the conference has to offer, as well as the every other month support group. But I left feeling- where are the specialists???... and not just in injections and the medical knowledge- but the counselors that someone with Alopecia can go to seek support and a space to be able to say the good, the bad, the light hearted, and the heavy emotions that arise.

I see this notion of a "specialist" in different ways. First, if the counselor/ psychologist does not have Alopecia- how can they at all relate? Secondly, the counselor can act as that refuge from the storm- which I think was closest to what I felt when I first lost my hair.

When I lost my hair- I didn't want to go and be in it. I wasn't ready to be in my community of Alopecia Areata. So I avoided the conference even though it was in San Francisco. I couldn't quite explain it to my peers in fear they would think of it as too scary or depressing. My family was too close to home. And that left me feeling very alone on the foggy coast. Now, I need to note when I say alone, I don't mean "oh woe- I am alone- so depressed- no one understands." I went to different people in my life for different sources of strength. I went to friends to try to retain normalcy at 16 (AKA awkward puberty, pranks and saying "I'm bored" and finding some random place to "go cruising"). I went to family to either try to remain a teen wanting to rebel, or appreciating my home/ farm as a place to express and go bare (bare- not meaning earthy woman gardening topless, bare meaning going bald). I went to my sister for a big sis that would listen to how I felt my baldness affected my relationships. I became close with my sister again after I lost my hair because she gave me a sense that I can preserver through this challenge. I remember my mom saying "this too shall pass- this too shall pass" At the time I thought "yeah fucking right mom- will it- will it?!?! And you know the baldness didn't pass but the insecurity, the loss of hope to rebuild my life, to feel fully human- it passed. This may sound a bit melodramatic- because I have heard from myself and so many others- "it's just hair" But in the long run- it changes you. It's not just hair. It is the experience. This bald experience pushed me to become something I did not know I had the strength to become.

But getting back to the point of therapists... there wasn't a space carved out in my social network or family that I could say, frankly, the fucked up thoughts that went through my head. I went to a counselor, because I had to talk it out in a safe space and I was so lucky that I had a therapist, although she did not have Alopecia, allowed me a safe space to talk, for myself. The fucked up thoughts didn't have to spin in circles in my head, they were out in a room- laid down on a table- and I was able to look at them, go over them, see the power they had over me, and let them go. So not as a hopeful one-day therapist but as an alopecian who had self doubt, who had self hate, and who had a low sense of self confidence- Counseling saved my life, and got me going where I needed to go.

As for the Psychologist Alopecian specialist- it should exist- it needs to exist. But wow think of all of the possibilities to come. When I lost my hair 10 years ago, NAAF seemed smaller. Now look at it. Most importantly the friendships and the support from truely authentic individuals learning how to live like the rest of the world. Learning how to take steps and learning to "just breathe". I hope that with my vocational choice I can carve out a little room, not as a specialist- but as an art therapist to have the tools to give to others to help themselves and give a helping hand to someone else in need. A cyclical process each growing along and within each other. It's getting late- and I think I hit Maya Angelou status in metaphor and motivation with my writing. Here is something to chew over... it Alopecian's, friends of mine, or random encounter onto this space. Keep growing, keep walking, and utilize any resources that are possible for you to grow into, and embrace your beautiful bad ass self.

Hydrating in the community

Today was an excellent day. I became a member of Glide! And my friend at this lovely community said... you join something when you know it's right. The right time. Two things have been going through my head. Where are the communities of social support? Identify them and cherish them. Secondly, this first semester has been a trial of understanding schedules- work loads- a new chapter. I realized that in my non-routine schedule for the first half of the semester I found my self lost- and I'll even admit a bit down in the dumps, until I drive over the bridge on my way to school- I am happy and alive. In love with a vocation that I feel it is calling me to let evolve how ever it does so.

But it was like clockwork- morning time- fill my time with computer as distraction- then feelings of "oh I gatta do something" so I then finally after walking around in circles. I do a little work- "not enough". I get ready for school- I get in my car and for the first half of my commute all my head can hear is "shoulda woulda coulda" "If I had not slacked I would on my game with school work" "If I just did this differently- things wouldn't have turned out the way they did." "Man heather you always do this." Then the fastrack booth- it beeps, and I go flying through, almost a rebirth- reminding me that I should not beat my self up- self affirmations that say "Heather you are great- love yourself today" as for the to do list.... baby steps, keep walking and baby steps. I cross the bridge and I wonder why do I have this thought routine everyday? I am tired of it. And I want a change. What are my sources of strength. Art, writing, support systems and community, physical exercise, and school. what are those baby steps to get my to do list done. And how can I pat myself on the back when I do those steps?

I headed to Glide today- because in all of the business of figuring out schedules, read, art assess, and so forth... I realized that I was lacking... my community. And I realize like dehydration- eventually you need to drink and be in it with others. Just as Glide is that for me, my Alopecia support group community- I cherish it- and I am really happy the support group meeting is coming soon. Also another, is the housemate I am feeling such support and authenticity with my program, my bouncing off the walls when on caffeine or when I having romantic issues. She checks me- yet cares- and even just let's me vent.

I feel like we all need communities to check each other- to hydrate- to drink. To be nourished from each others conversation, laughter, or sorrow. And Glide specifically is a methodist church- but it's much broader- it's about feeling nurtured yet told straight up what's up. I think everyone needs that beyond a church's walls. In the street, in the classroom, in the breakroom, in the local coffee shop. Who or what do you go to check yourself? What image or object is there for you to say "hey I am no longer going to say I am not good enough today. Today I am doing 1, 2, and 3 and that ain't bad. And I am doing it awesomely!"

I really enjoyed myself at Glide today because I realize I was able to check myself, the world around me, and receive and give a little love. I hydrated today and boy did it feel good.

Oh and I went to Ikea- and ikea is always good. Hint: frozen yogurt is amazing in the cafe. I would have to say that is my disney land.

New job bringing up new/ old insecurities

Baseball hats. Put one on when I first lost my hair- no thank you- not my style I guess. For some reason I feel like the baseball cap is an arrow to my difference. Bald woman walking here. But bare- I guess it's just out there. It's there- I'm bare- and walk on. So this point out of difference (the hat) was a choice I said no to a long time ago- baseball caps are just not my thing.

But now a new job is requiring a baseball cap as part of the uniform. My interview was like a ballet- graceful, smooth, and beautiful. I bagged the job. Then "okay here you go Heather here is your hat you will be wearing" and although this is protocol of the company for all associates- my heart sunk and my pulse rose. Here protocol was getting the best of my avoidance to state the obvious. I am bald.

I left bearing a grin, thankful for the job, but also repeating "Heather you can do this you can do this". I went home and looked in the mirror for a while with my new head wear... and you know not so bad. Maybe it was the braces that I had before that threw my identity, femininity, and girly charm out the window. Or the acknowledgement that the initial hair loss is a form of trauma, a breakdown (maybe minor myabe big- but it changes you) I also realized at that moment how much my face has changed since that first time when wearing a baseball cap. I realized I looked "woman": that has been happening a lot in the past few years... I am bald and I look woman.

After losing my hair I felt I went to unwanted androgyny, and the question "if I lose my hair am I really less of a woman?"

But going back to face changes. It's amazing- still my spark- still my eyes-still my soul shinning through... but my face looks different, I feel a little more ownership of my face, my body. And I don't mean narcissistic looks at beauty in the mirror, but a new exclamation, identification, ownership of my body.

I have to admit it was a bit hard to wear my hat today at a training- because I have built my identity around story telling of my experience to relate to others. Maybe it's time for me, my personality to shine, maybe I don't always have to be the storyteller, or the Jane Goodall elaborating on the behavior of the bald. Maybe it's time for me to just be me, I have it, own it.

I realize that I am tested with this hat, but I also know that I will keep walking- and shine on. Shine on shine on.