They say the first step to finding a solution to a problem is to admit you have a problem, I have a problem that I can't solve easily and must commit to pay servitude to everyday, its called Trichotillomania and it means I have an addiction to pulling out my own hair all the time. It can be any hair and it can be from anywhere on my body, the past two days (I know that doesn't seem like much but in my mind its a breakthrough) have been the longest time in many years that I have been able to be free of this affliction. Today is a good day, tomorrow could be awful but I try to live every day as it comes and hope that I have the power to control my will. For some it may be drugs, for others alcohol but for me this is my poison, I'm not proud of it but I need to admit to the world the state of my mind, and hope the world accepts it.
This time of year is the worst, Christmas is when I like to be with family and I am happily engaged to the man of life, but at the same time I am half a world away from the family that define who I am as a person. I love each and everyone of them and being so far away and so rarely seeing them all breaks my heart many times within a year, it makes me sad to think that I missed the last days of my sisters life on earth because I live so far away. I desperately try not to think about it but this fact will always be my pain that I cannot show or share because I have no-one to share it with, my partner never knew her and no-body here half a world away can appreciate the connection I shared with her. I love my new home and I love my new family to be, but his alone cannot replace the family I already have, and I would love for this to be one and the same, but Australia and the United Kingdom are many hours away from popping over.
After the death of sister I constantly worry about the phone call that will inform me of the next passing of time, who will it be? When will it be? Is this the call I shouldn't answer? I hope that as time passes I will have the opportunity to spend more time with those that I call home. I used to think that a place defined your home but as I move forward in life I realize that its not a location that defines your home but the people, and that is the reason why my heart is broken, it is split between my wonderful partner and this open, loving country and my original family back home in Australia. I love you back there and hope I can spend a lot more time with you, but life has a tendency to march ever forward without my input, the drums of time continue ever onward.
I have disorder and broken heart but I am the luckiest man on earth, two families and single heart, a will that is forced and a forceful will. I surrender to it...
