Hello,
Have you ever heard the saying, "I'm so (stressed) that I cound just pull my hair out"? It's not just a saying. In fact, it has a name, trichotillomania. Trichotillomania is a phychological condition which involves an iresistible & extremely powerful urge to pull out one's own hair. Crazy, I know. I's an impluse control disordered, triggered by depression or anxiety. I have both.
My battle with trichotillomania began roughly 9 months ago. It began with my obsession over split ends, I was constantly pulling and picking at my splits ends, without even thinking about it. I didn't think it was a big deal at all, because lots of girls at school did it too. But it turned into full out hair pulling one day during a mental breakdown I was having. I was sitting against my bathroom wall, sobbing and drowning in my sadness. I was trying to calm myself, and make myself forget about all my problems. I ran my hands through my long, thick, dark hair; which is something I normally do when I'm stressed. Completely and utterly frustrated, I through my head back against the wall, looking up and praying to God to help me.
And that's when I saw it, the hair out of place hanging between my eyes, brushing through my eyelashes.
It's out of place, I thought to myself.
And pluck, I yanked the hair out of my head, along with it's root. Nothing in my life had prepared me for the feeling it gave me; the shocking and comforting feeling. Little did I know at the time, that single pluck would later corrupt me.
I cannot possibly describe the feeling it gave me; the gratification, the relief, the need to do it again. My thin, weak single strands of hair didn't stand a chance against my strong hands. Removing strands of hair from my scalp took away all my problems, and shut off all my senses; but only for less than half a second. In some twisted way, I found pleasure by pulling out my hair, and feeling the incredibly short burst of sensation it gave me. I started to unconsciously pull when I became overly stressed, worried, depressed, or upset at myself, even if it was something stupid. Pulling was almost like a punishment. It felt so soothing and comforting while I did it. But after I did it, I immediatley felt disgusted and ashamed, which would only make me pull more. The more I would pull, the more worthless I would feel. The more worthless I would feel, the more I would pull. I lost the battle against trichotillomania the day it begun.
I don't like to pull, but I love the feeling it gives me. I want to STOP pulling, but I can't, I simply just cannot. I love my goregous hair, I dont want it to be yanked out from my scalp.
During the intense hours of hair pulling, I fight myself to stop, I beg myself to stop, but I can't. I feel like a helpless puppet being controlled by this.. disease.. this monster. I cannot regain control over myself, I cannot stop pulling.
After pulling, my scalp begins to throb faster than my heart can beat. The rawness of the newly formed bald spot stings to the touch. Hair belongs there, but I have pulled it all out. The thought of that breaks my heart. On my left hand, my index finger and thumb have deep indentions in my flesh where my fingernail and thumbnail meet and pinch together to pull my hair out, strand by strand.
Trichotillomania has dominated my life, as well as depression & anxiety. I am not the person I use to be 9 months ago, & I am not the person I want to be. I have never in my life confessed my battle with trichotillomania to anyone, reason being the fear of being judged, rejected, made fun of, etc. I go to great lengths to hide my bald spots, which are on each side of my face, from the ear to the temple, and on the top of my face, above my forehead. I am not a hat person, but I am beginning to wear hats to cover the spots up, especcially when I go to the gym to work out, because there is no way I can wear my hair in a ponytail without being asked about my baldspots. My bangs, thankfully, cover up the bald spot on the top of my face, and hair covers the side bald spots, so I can still wear my hair down. I feel like such a loser because of my condition. And I'm scarred, I'm scarred I will never be able to stop and that I won't be able to do the things I love doing, like swimming, boating, going to the beach, tubing, wakeboarding, etc. I am scarred that if I continue to pull, the bald spots will become more noticeable and my friends and family will comfront me about it. I'm scarred of the vulnerability that will correspond with me being comfronted about my condition.
I cannot ask for help, I cannot confess this to my family and friends. But I NEED to stop, I HAVE to stop, I WANT to stop, I WILL stop.
But, it's just a matter of how? How will I go about this? How will I stop without help, without medication, without theraphy? That's the most difficult question to answer. But, I am determined to continue my battle with trichotillomania & defeat it. Although I am battling this alone, I will overcome this. I have no choice, I cannot live my life like this, constantly worrying if my problem will be noticed. I will not live my life like this.
Marty (:
