To everyone who is reading this, you probably don't care or think I'm crazy for being on this forum, but I understand everyone has their own problems to deal with. It all started last year of summer, I recently got out of what I believe was long term of depression. Life was great, I made friends, started hanging out with my family, started bodybuilding. Before then I played a lot of video games. My entire life was surrounded by this culture of gaming, consuming my entire life. You might think it was normal or I was like all the other teens who played video games, but I assure you it wasn't. I played at least 8 hours a day and up to 16 hours on the weekends. I ate, slept, and isolated myself with video games. It was my life, everything that I thought was important to me. But it affected everything around me, like a weed in a cornfield. I would never talk with my family, or hang out with my friends. I would only ask for my meals to be cooked and would only move away from gaming to take a piss. I rarely took a shower, brushed my teeth, and would never exercise. My room was a mess and people would be disgusted going into my room to see what it had become. But all of this, and I didn't care.
But one day, I became really sick. I didn't what was wrong, but everything hurt. The sickness took me 2 weeks to recover from and even then, I felt like sh*t. It was only after this sickness that I realized I was digging myself into an early grave. So I quit video games completely, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and started exercising. My father had died when I was only 10 at the age of 54. He was a kind man with a gentle soul, but he never cared for his health. He overworked himself, donated his money to help his family and friends, and died. After his death, it hurt for a bit, but I got over it. Life moved on, and so did I. I thought after his death, nothing could hurt me.
Then came the day I saw myself losing hair. At first, I thought it was paranoia, no one in my close family was bald that I knew of. So I asked my mother who cuts my hair what she thought. She laughed and called me crazy but apart of me knew that I wasn't. Luckily I had the chance to go to the dermatologist for another skin problem that I had and asked them if I was losing my hair. The two doctors inspected my scalp, and thankfully they said I there was no male pattern baldness and that I had a great set of hair. Fast forward to the present, life was good. I had great grades, was back with my friends and family, and was living life. One day, when I was styling my hair, I realized that spot that I had previously worried about had grown bigger. I started obsessing over it, taking at least 10 pictures every day. I became that insecure person that I was before.
I had another dermatologist appointment for a checkup for my skin which I hoped they would diagnose me with male pattern baldness, to end this endless cycle of paranoia. I went in signed out the piece of paper describing my issues and waited. Once the doctors came in, they looked at me if I was crazy. A 16 year old teenager who believed he had hair loss. They said it was nothing and that my hair density was the same all around. I was frustrated, at my mom, at the doctors. It hurts to know that everyone thinks your fine but really your not. It was a problem I never expected, and it hit me hard. Every day I can see myself declining. The worst part about it isn't losing my hair, I have great friends and family who wouldn't bat an eye if I shaved it all off, but that I am slowly watching myself deteriorate at the supposed it time of greatest growth. I feel terrible for wasting so much time and energy into this issue while others have bigger problems. This was just hair loss, but I can't stop feeling sorry myself.
I could tell that if I let this issue put me down any longer, that I would be in this state of grief and denial for the rest of my life. I am determined to not let that happen again, I want to be better. I want to live life to its fullest. To enjoy the luxury of happiness and contentment, but I can't right now. I recently made the choice to buy Finasteride pills from India. Call me ignorant, call me stupid, I don't really care anymore. I know that people who will make that opinion won't be suffering from what I am feeling. For me, the risk to benefit ratio is a risk I am willing to take. I can deal with having no hair, but I know I won't be able to deal with the fact that I did not at least try to stop it years from now: it's just who I am.
Thank you for reading this and I hope my experience with Finasteride will help other people around my age
But one day, I became really sick. I didn't what was wrong, but everything hurt. The sickness took me 2 weeks to recover from and even then, I felt like sh*t. It was only after this sickness that I realized I was digging myself into an early grave. So I quit video games completely, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and started exercising. My father had died when I was only 10 at the age of 54. He was a kind man with a gentle soul, but he never cared for his health. He overworked himself, donated his money to help his family and friends, and died. After his death, it hurt for a bit, but I got over it. Life moved on, and so did I. I thought after his death, nothing could hurt me.
Then came the day I saw myself losing hair. At first, I thought it was paranoia, no one in my close family was bald that I knew of. So I asked my mother who cuts my hair what she thought. She laughed and called me crazy but apart of me knew that I wasn't. Luckily I had the chance to go to the dermatologist for another skin problem that I had and asked them if I was losing my hair. The two doctors inspected my scalp, and thankfully they said I there was no male pattern baldness and that I had a great set of hair. Fast forward to the present, life was good. I had great grades, was back with my friends and family, and was living life. One day, when I was styling my hair, I realized that spot that I had previously worried about had grown bigger. I started obsessing over it, taking at least 10 pictures every day. I became that insecure person that I was before.
I had another dermatologist appointment for a checkup for my skin which I hoped they would diagnose me with male pattern baldness, to end this endless cycle of paranoia. I went in signed out the piece of paper describing my issues and waited. Once the doctors came in, they looked at me if I was crazy. A 16 year old teenager who believed he had hair loss. They said it was nothing and that my hair density was the same all around. I was frustrated, at my mom, at the doctors. It hurts to know that everyone thinks your fine but really your not. It was a problem I never expected, and it hit me hard. Every day I can see myself declining. The worst part about it isn't losing my hair, I have great friends and family who wouldn't bat an eye if I shaved it all off, but that I am slowly watching myself deteriorate at the supposed it time of greatest growth. I feel terrible for wasting so much time and energy into this issue while others have bigger problems. This was just hair loss, but I can't stop feeling sorry myself.
I could tell that if I let this issue put me down any longer, that I would be in this state of grief and denial for the rest of my life. I am determined to not let that happen again, I want to be better. I want to live life to its fullest. To enjoy the luxury of happiness and contentment, but I can't right now. I recently made the choice to buy Finasteride pills from India. Call me ignorant, call me stupid, I don't really care anymore. I know that people who will make that opinion won't be suffering from what I am feeling. For me, the risk to benefit ratio is a risk I am willing to take. I can deal with having no hair, but I know I won't be able to deal with the fact that I did not at least try to stop it years from now: it's just who I am.
Thank you for reading this and I hope my experience with Finasteride will help other people around my age