New Development. Trichotillomania.

Every school day, I do Cait's hair.  It's long and it frustrates her to brush. However, she doesn't want to cut it just yet, because she looks good with long hair.  I get it.

Lately, I have been thinking "Wow. We need to cut this poor girl's hair for summer." Yesterday, that thought extended some. "Wow. We need to cut this poor girl's hair for summer.  Look at all the split ends.  Especially up here on the top.  Wait.... huh?"

So, after talking to her about it, she breaks down and says she has been snapping hairs during math. Surprising. I thought she was good in math. 

"Not here lately. I learn it and then the next day, I forget it all! Then the tests, I get confused! And I pull my hair..."

So many things happen in my head at this point. Concern being the main thing of course. Luckily, she has an appointment already made at the end of the week. I calmly comb her hair back in a top pony, suggest snapping at a bracelet instead, and remind her that she will be seeing the doctor soon.  She cries.  I cry.  Dad comes in and I find myself in a defense posture mode, like... "don't get on her, it is a bad moment" and he just hugs her. 

This isn't the first time she has shown signs of this.  Before meds, she would suck on her hair, rub it on her lip, and eat it.  She would also chew on her shirt.  At the time, we didn't realize "IT" had a name: Trichotillomania. Luckily, it isn't her main issue.  In some, it can be really bad... like, stomach issues, bowel blockage, etc.  Bad.

Looking into it, made me further understand one of my own weird stress relievers: Dermatillomania. Didn't even know there was a name of it! (I am learning lots of crazy stuff today! ooh. "Crazy." Bad pun.) Dermatillomania is the picking of the skin. Popping of zits, scraping of scabs, picking of dead skin.... sorry if I grossed you out. I only do it when I am beyond stressed and/or in the need of a serious med change. Seems my daughter does hers for the same reasons.  Warning signs are always handy to know.

This appointment can not come soon enough.

Pre-Cancerous... Situational? or Med Adjustment Worthy?

Bad day... again.

Realizing that I am NOT handling the whole "pre-cancerous" thing as well as I thought.  Don't get me wrong, I am elated we caught it this early. I am thrilled we caught this all when we did, but... I still have huge moments of "WHY ME?!?!?"  And I feel guilty that I have them. Stupid?  Eh.  I don't know what or how to feel anymore.  My anxiety is at an all time high right now. I never wanted to make a big deal out of it.  Not like it's gonna kill me.  I mean, it is capable... but medicine is sooo advanced now, and the plan is practically fail safe.  Worst case scenario, I have a small procedure done and *poof* gone!  And yet, I am still a hot mess. 

A Happy Bipolar Mess

Hey there my silent readers.  I'm back.  I'm still here and I'm feeling much better now.  I know in my last post I was a bit.... stressed.  Still am... a bit.   However, I am happy and making the best of it.  All is well. 

Ok, I still have a few more previously published posts from my other blog I would like to share with you.  Here are a couple about my (now 10 year old) daughter and fellow Bipolar happy mess.  She is currently going through preteen changes and may need a bit of a med adjustment. Why do I say that?  Oh, maybe because she came to me today and said, "When do we seeing (my doctor) next? I am having problems controlling my anger.  And my giggling."  That is my girl, y'all!!!  *sigh* That's what I aimed for!!  Self  Recognition and Realization!!  I didn't get good at that until... well... I'm STILL not good at that!  *beams with pride*  Love it!


"I have two pants on!": The other night, my eldest daughter came in to us because she had a nightmare. As usual, she couldn't remember what it was about, but she was visually shaken. And shirtless.... The next morning, we were in the kitchen making breakfast when she looked down and exclaimed "I have two pants on!" When I asked her why, she responded "I don't know."


Portrait of a Beautiful Bipolar Child: My daughter gets her diagnosis.