Guest Comment: From J

Incidentally, I have a comment from dear reader J that I've been meaning to share for months, as it communicates so perfectly what I would have loved to say in that post.  I asked her if I could share it, because those who don't read the comments all the time would be missing out on how well she articulates the frustration and despair of trying to hide hirsutism day after day after day.  It gives us all a chance to see what a guest blogger post might look like, too.

Thank you, J!

I wish I could bottle up the emotion and psychological heartbreak of those kind of moments into a jar so other people could sample what it really feels like for us at times.

The one's like you described where no matter how hard you work or creative you get there is like no possible way to leave the safety (and confinement) of your home without feeling like the "elephant in the room" everywhere you go, like you're on display, and disgusting.

And how it feels to feel no choice but to cancel plans and disappoint the people we care about most, and then to have them upset and not understand why, to have them think we are being antisocial, or lazy, or straight up superior and rude... because they cannot know the reason and feelings behind our choice to withdraw ourselves. When in reality we would love nothing more than to be with the one's we love, uninhibited and whole and bright and shiny :p Isolation in your physical circumstance is one thing, but repression in and negative portrayal of who you are inside... That's an aweful feeling in itself.

How about the one's where you groom and primp and paint and finally reach "normality", but are so drained after the process that you cry and ruin it all, or simply misplace your identity, feeling fake or vulnerable, or so insecure, not knowing how to proceed with the day.

There's the one's where you are invited to a stellar event or a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you get so excited!! But it lasts for only a second, before it hits you... these types of things are not for me... they are for normal people, the lucky ones, the old me, the me that one day will be... but not now, not this thing I am now... these are not meant for me.

But like a cycle, like you did then, with the frustration and the tears, and tea and the dog. We accept it, experience it, we get through the pain, we pull it together, and "just... go on with life."

Just a few of the types of feelings we have the joy of living with.


Read the original comment here.