I am so lost and tired of this. I used to pull my hair in large amounts when I was a kid my mom always told me. She said she would find hair balls under my bed and in my room. That was when my nana died and I was five years old when it all started. My mom told me I only did it for a year or two more after her mom died. Little does she know I have been hiding my hair pulling from her for a long time. The weird thing about Trichotillomania for me is that it will go away for months or even years ! Then it comes back. I mostly pull my eyebrows, and eye lashes sometimes. But now I have been pulling hair on my head like the little baby hairs. Well all the baby hairs are gone so I just keep going up and pulling longer hair. I'm in college, and I noticed I do it when I'm sitting in class or in bed. But I'm not sad or nervous or anything. I don't notice I do it to much until I look down and I see a wad of hair on my lap. I do it in public too which is humiliating but even though it is I still won't stop. It's becoming noticeable on my head and I have to put makeup on my eyebrows to hide the bald spots in them. I don't know what to do. I pull it out then I feel good then I rub the roots across my lips then I look at it and feel terrible and guilty. Then I throw it away and get rid of that guiltiness by pulling more ... I need help I'm in college , and I can't afford being made fu of .please help I don't know why to do!

This is an unfinished work of my own I began writing to try and better understand myself and what makes me do what I do, say what I say, and so forth. I want to better understand what exactly IS borderline sociopathy and how can they exist alongside each other? Was I born into a breed of evolutionarily advanced people who have stripped away the feelings of love and compassion and feeling empathy for others, something that the ######6 world just LOVES, but never in my life felt like sharing a little with me! I must also add to this prologue that I have no interest whatsoever in any insulting #######4 some people may $#%^ out their mouth, but am hoping to find some insight on ways I can better maneuver myself to express behavior that could help me avoid falling prey to my own self destructive lifestyle. I must note that any attempts that have ever been made on rehabilitating me failed almost as soon as they start, so anything that doesn't require me to enslave my freedom to please the society that does nothing but hurt me.





Every day since I could remember, I always had a pretty good idea that humankind as a whole didn’t have a place for me. In my mind, everything I did and will ever do is right, but I knew they would disdain me for what I do, because they are the ones who are weak, society has a crutch that limits its abilities whereas and I never broke anything to begin with. My overwhelming hatred for people boils inside of me, but without them, I can’t win, because the secret behind all this hatred is that I hate feeling lonely. They’re also great tools for my ultimate plans I put together every day because after all, the more cattle you can rope into your stable, the more successful the farm is, right?
To describe someone like myself, one must know a little bit about human psychology. I fit into the specific category of someone who has a borderline sociopathic personality disorder. I am overflowing with sensitivity and dependency, while on the contrary, alongside these feelings follows a profound chronic lack of affection for the people around me, family and all. If I could truly have ultimate control over things, I would pursue my hedonistic pleasures on my own. However, for whatever reason, I was cursed with a crutch as well, but not anything like the crutch that those around me have, because unlike them, I will always have the last say in everything, even when others have long since forgotten things they did to me in the past, I won’t, and will always sneak up on someone when they least expect it, especially from the one who nobody would ever suspect. Me
Unlike most borderlines, my emotional lability is more characterized by a chronically blunted emotional state, occasionally broken by intense anger, hedonistic happiness, self-pitying depression. For a long time in my life, I thought I was “depressed” because of this very sad feeling I would get a lot. Unlike every other depressed people in the world, mine hardly included any episodes of crying, but when it would happen, it was purely by choice. It’s more of a performance, played out my myself throughout growing up as an attempt to fit in with the rest of the world, to show people “Hey #####&! I do care about things, just have trust in me” My father was the greatest figure in my life that ignited this mirroring behavior. Before I had learned what a “sociopath” even was, I would lose it when my dad would say things to me like “what is wrong with you? Do you have any remorse about anything you do? You’re a follower, a pathetic loser, and I’m positive you will end up on skid row sucking dick for drugs, ######6 queer.” Sounds quite a lot to say to a child who lacks a sense of responsibility for when they break a rule, would you say? Well, the funny thing is, my father is the psychology textbook definition of a sadistic, egotistical psychopath, as opposed to the more approachable sociopath. As I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear that my mother ...

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