Blog challenge day 13

"Your opinion about your body and how comfortable you are with it"

I've spent way too much time on trying to lose weight. I've been really sick. I've been treated for it 3 different places and believe it or not, I used to be thin. It was never enough back then. But eventually I had enough. I got better. I stopped caring. I still thought about it for years after. Now I've just accepted the way I look, cause I know that even though I have enormous thighs, a huge ass and a badass muffin-top, I'm still sexy as hell. I realize that now, but I didn't back then. Back then I was striving for perfection, but now I've realized that nothing is perfect, that perfect is a stupid concept, and an illusion.

I wouldn't have learned to accept my body without the influence my former partners had. The compliments of a boyfriend means everything, and boosts the self esteem, and my boyfriends have been good at complimenting my body. Eventually my views on body image changed big time, and I realized that I think curves are beautiful. I love women with hips, thighs that touch and wiggle when they walk and an ass that's big enough to smack hard without knocking the bitch over! That is hot. Why go out and shake it, if it ain't shaking?

And a guys body doesn't have to be covered in visible muscles, huge guns and an eightpack. I like slim guys better, because I think the slim triangle shape with a tiny ass and wide shoulders is beautiful. A beautiful backside, that you just wanna jump and bite till you leave marks. Damn that shit is sexy as hell. 

So yeah, basically.. I like my body. I know I'm sexy. I'm curvy and I like it, and I'm not alone in that opinion. 

I have trich.

I have a confession. I have been trich'ing for hours straight now, and I haven't found the strength to stop until now. I just thought I'd tell you a little something about a thing that I'm dealing with right now. I have Trichotillomania. In case that doesn't ring a bell, it is classified as an impulse control disorder. It is basically a compulsive urge to pull your own hair out.

Now the second sentence of this post suddenly make sense. Yes. I have been sitting for hours straight and pulled my own hair out of my scalp. Crazy? Maybe. I am not the one to judge. I know for a fact that this is an illness, but that it is something I am in control of myself. But since when is that uncommon? We see it all the time!
Anorexia: Start eating - Bulimia: Stop purging - Obesety: Lose weight - Depression: Smile - Self harm: Stop hurting yourself.
This is to prove a point - it isn't something you can just stop, and or, start doing - Okay? People think "Why do you do that? Stop it." Well wow! You can't just tell a bulimic to stop purging from one day to another can you? Tell an anorexic to start eating? NO GOD DAMNIT! So what is it people don't understand? You can't just stop this either! Mental health is not something you get by just snapping your fingers! AND IT DOESN'T HELP THAT YOU JUST TELL ME TO STOP DOING IT, OR THAT I NEED TO STOP!!

So.. I have been pulling my hair in many different ways since I was a child. The earliest memory I have of myself doing it, was in fourth grade. I was 10 years old, sitting at my table in class. I remember playing with my hair and not being able to stop. I just wanted to feel it between my fingers. So I kept playing with it. This went on for years, but then I stopped. It has been on and off since then. I stopped again when I was 17 I think, and didn't do it for about two years. Then I relapsed and now I am doing it again. Only this time I googled it, and found out that it is actually a disease, and not just a bad habit that you can just get rid of, just like that. I wanted to spread the word, because not many people know about this illness. It is more common than you realize. And much more serious than it seems. Having to deal with the hairloss, the shame, trance, people pointing it out, the questions, covering up, but most of all the urge. It sucks. Trichotillomania truly fucking sucks. And it's nothing to make fun of.

I trust my readers, therefore I trust you with this deep deep confession of mine.
I was crying when I wrote this.