Another year, another post to just throw out some random thoughts on a screen and label it as a rant. Yes, if you haven’t guessed it already by the title, this is the 2025 edition of:
I feel like the older I get, the less inclined I am to actually express myself (personally) in my blog writing. Sure, we have Overexposed as a series, but I find myself very much enjoying having the ability to share what I want to share versus what I don’t. This doesn’t mean I’m not a writer anymore, it just means that my inspiration and my focus is more on the stories I write, telling the stories of the different characters that live in my brain for most of the day.
The most I’ve shared about myself was my OCD diagnosis, which is something that I chose to share for the sake of being transparent and authentic with myself. Like I previously spoke about, it’s been a challenge understanding how this diagnosis looks like on me, and in the process of learning and being more aware of my rituals, compulsions, and rumination, it’s very apparent that all of those are mental for me. I learned a lot about myself in this journey, not even realizing that the inner voice in my head that never shuts up is a OCD symptom. Needless to say, this is something that I am still learning about, all while “unlearning” the techniques and mechanisms, disguised as OCD.
I was worried that this new diagnosis would mentally put me in the place I was in when I first started therapy, and using my anxiety diagnosis as the bible to explain why I was the way I was. It hindered my progress, and it really wasn’t until a couple of years later that I figured out how anxiety looked on me. In an ironic way, it’s my OCD fearing that because of this new diagnosis, I will treat it as a crutch as I did with previous diagnosis’. I know it’s a ridiculous thought, but it feels real, and OCD strives on thoughts that feel real. I am (still) learning that every thought is just a thought, whether or not it’s fake or real. I am (also still) learning that not everything I struggle with is stemmed with OCD, and that things that are currently happening and real need to be processed correctly. In a nutshell, my belief that emotional processing will cause me to spiral out of control was an OCD thought that developed through a traumatic experience.
One of my compulsions is hair pulling. Not only does it stress me out that I do it and know that it’s a body repetitive focused behavior, but I have trained my brain that pulling my hair allows my mind to escape the real situations and real emotions I am currently going through. For me, it’s dealing with the “mental changes” from young adulthood to adulthood, battling with themes and feelings that are very new in this body.
As I write this, I am trying to be more discipline with myself. Knowing myself, I am trying to quit cold turkey with hair pulling. I’ve tried looking at it in a different perspective, replacing the behavior with something similar; everything. After many discussions with different professionals about my hair pulling, I am at the stage where I’ve gained awareness of the behavior, but have not strictly stopped myself from doing the behavior. While it’s not ideal to quit turkey since this is a behavior, not a habit, I am trying to control the situation by visibly seeing this huge STOP sign in my mind when I find myself wanting to pull, or mindlessly pull. So far, it’s been going well with some moments of me looking at my hair and pulling and going, “oh shit, you’re doing it again.”
I have tons of goals for myself entering 2026 related to this. So far, I have not cut my hair short out of impulse, and I’ve been letting my eyebrows grow (again) after they burned off with bleach.
“Oh, what makes this attempt to grow out your hair and eyebrows any different than the last couple of times?” I wasn’t aware that even this thought was OCD driven.
What makes this time different is now I have the resources needed to at least try something different. I am able to take note of the places and time of day when I am prone to pulling my hair. I am able to take a step back and think what truly is the underlying issue causing these urges to pull.
Of course, there’s always a chance I will need to revise my plan, and be okay knowing the fact that it may not work. There’s always a chance I will pull and not know how to get myself out of it. There’s always a chance that the guilt and shame of relapsing will drive my need to continue to pull. There’s always a chance that this time may be like the other times in the past. But, at least I can say that I tried, and am actively trying to break the cycle.
Letters From Liz. 