It has certainly made me a better person, but to reach this point I crossed many other problems that were just consequences of my mental problems originated by hair loss itself. At the beginning you could say that I was the personification of the hate itself: I would treat anyone around like trash, even people that meant the world to me such as my younger brother and my ex girlfriend. I didn't make it clear to them that I was facing hair loss (in clumps, imagine the destruction) because I really couldn't.
Everything I wanted to vent at the time was stuck in the middle of my throat, and I clearly was afraid of being mocked or ridiculed, even though I know they wouldn't do that. I remember vividly that I broke down crying on ex shoulder one day and she kept asking why I was crying and I never said the reason. Stupid, isn't it? Little did I know that I would be losing her soon, and slowly. My brother at that period of time became distant as well, because he thought I was avoiding him. He was too young to understand the burden it was, and to him it could be solved naturally. I couldn't put myself to sit with him and try to explain as well, because I was too stressed and too angry to be talking to people about that curse.
As the time passed, I lost my girlfriend, lost contact with mother, lost my grandparents and many career opportunities. I started college few months prior hair loss and was really unhappy with that already, so it only made things worse. Funny thing is, the year before that was the best year of my life. Really poetic if I think about it nowadays; ~ The last days of my youth ~. Could be a movie or a song title, whatever.
After so many things happened, I decided I would focus on my future instead of worrying obsessively about something that I had no control of. There are people out there in their teens balding heavily. At least I was able to live youth as I wanted; I fucked, I laughed, I kissed, I loved, I dreamt. Memories that I will keep forever with me, and that give me a fleeting fragment of hope whenever I long about them.
Of course this ~clarity~ of mine was something that I only realized recently, so I'm still taking baby steps. Nevertheless, I can't deny that I dream about gaining my density back sometimes. Even if I do, I don't think it will result in happiness; I expect something more like a bittersweet feeling. Something along these lines...
