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The memories were faint right now, but I still remember how it started. My friend noticed there is a bald spot on my scalp. I could feel it at the top of my head, but can't see it. I ignored it till more bald spots appeared, my hair loss became more and more. I became anxious, but I was only 15 years old and I don't know why it happened.
My parents brought me to a doctor, he gave me an appointment after 3 months to meet a dermatologist. Before I could seek help, the hair loss was too rapid. In no time, I was totally bald. The feeling was scary; I don't wanna go to school. I hate meeting my friends, my teachers, anyone. Seniors who passed by my classroom will shout at me, laugh at me, teasing me for the possibility of having cancer. It was depressing at those moments. I just wanna hide from the world, feeling so ugly and alienated.
I recalled wearing a cap to school, having my classmates trying to remove my cap from behind, and laughing at me when I get scared.
Finally, I met my dermatologist, whom I put all my hope of. I have been through all kinds of treatment, including traditional treatment, acupuncture with my scalp bleeding. However, nothing seems to work for me. Years passed by, I'm still that bald girl, but at least I have a wig by that time.
Losing my hair makes me feel conscious of my appearance more. I tried so hard to look presentable, to where I started dieting, losing weight. Thinking I will look better if I have a slimmer body to compensate for my hair loss. Without me realizing it, I went way beyond normal. I became obsessed with my body image. Little that I know, I had anorexia nervosa and obsessive-compulsive disorder.
To make things worse, I distanced myself from friends and family, hating myself more and more. I don't understand why all these happening to me "Why ME?!".
I attempted suicide twice but survived the hospitalization and was put under psychiatrist follow-up.
My psychiatrist was a middle-aged man, slightly overweight, looks stern but soft-spoken. I was initially a rebellious patient, I refused to follow treatment thinking that he wanna "harm" me, wanna get made me fat and ugly. I just can't stop myself from thinking that way, I planted deeply the thought in my confused mind.
Slowly and surely I was able to accept the treatment he prescribed.
After 2 years, I still didn't manage to get my hair back... but at least I have a clearer mind by then. I ate properly, I was able to concentrate on my study, all thanks to my dear psychiatrist. I'm grateful to have my family supported me throughout the whole time, not giving me up.
I wanted to become a doctor, to be able to give hope to patients at the very least... I ended up becoming a doctor now. Being a patient myself, made me feel more empathy towards my patients.
I'm still that bald girl with the wig but I have a bigger heart, bigger dream, bigger aim, and bigger responsibility for my patients. Of course, I still hope that one day I can stroke my fingers through my hair again...and i never stop hoping...
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