Trichotillomania III: My Story Cont'd

As with all disorders, or any kind of problem, it seems, my struggle with trich is multi-faceted. There is the definitive explanation: the urge to/action of pulling out hair. Then there is the shame. The embarrassment. The exclusion. The feeling of powerlessness, worthlessness, and absolute lack of control. I have vascilated between two extremes: The first is the belief that it's not my fault, there's nothing I can do; I may as well just accept it, stop worrying about it, and live with it. The second is that I only have this problem because I am a weak, out-of-control person who isn't trying hard enough to lick it. I wish I knew what the reality of it is. I go through phases where I just pull and don't really think about it, which is usually followed by a period of time when I decide I'm really going to 'get it this time'. I have seen multiple counselors. I have taken different prescriptions usually prescribed for ADD, OCD, Depression, that are suppose to help. I have tried alternative "energy healing" therapies, and Cognitive Behavioral Techniques. I put gloves on my hands when I read, glasses on my face, hats or scarves on my head. I have covered all the mirrors in the house but one. Yet here I am, still frustrated, not exactly sure what my next tactic will be. Someone talked to a psychologist who said there has been a lot of success with a supplement that can be bought at a health food store. It's an amino acid. I don't know much about it, but it's certainly worth a try.

Just the other night I got carried away lying in bed. The Mr. had already drifted off to dreamland. Bedtime is one of the worst times for me. I only pulled out four or five eyelashes, but when they're already thin, and you pull them all out in the same concentrated area (which I tend to do a lot), a few eyelashes can be the difference between some sparcity and a gaping, 1/2" space.

It is really hard for my husband to watch me when I'm pulling out my hair. He feels like I become someone else when I do it. Together we have tried to figure out the best response. Bless his heart that man has tried everything. He has tried subtly trying to divert my attention. For some reason this makes me angry in my 'altered' state. So does handing me a pair of gloves, but asking if I would like him to bring me some gloves works. Usually I need him to put them on me, too. Telling me that it hurts him to see me pulling is helpful. I will usually ask him why and he is able to explain that he doesn't like seeing me hurt myself; that he feels like that's not me, etc. For some reason when I can tell he is bothered but doesn't say anything, I get upset. Somehow I have convinced myself that it is for selfish reasons that he hates it. Of course this makes no sense, and of course I know that he is concerned because he loves me, but when I am pulling, or feel a strong urge to pull, rationality seems to go out the window. I really, really hate that. I don't know if this whole issue has been harder on him or on me. He told me one day that he would spend all our money if he knew that it would fix this. I love that man.

A few months ago I started searching on the internet. I actually found several videos of (mostly teen-age) girls talking about their struggle with trich. I was absolutely blown away. First of all, I thought I was an anomaly. I had only ever heard of one other person who experienced this problem. Some doctors and counselors knew what it was, but most had very little experience with it. I think part of this is because people are so embarrassed about it. They think they will be rejected by society (especially one that is so aesthetically based, and projects perfection as the 'norm'), and so they just hide it. I don't exactly plan to shout it from the rooftops, but part of the reason I'm sharing this is the hope that someone else who is struggling with these same issues will be able to find some sort of hope or help in something I say, or at the very least realize they are not alone. Second, I was humbled and incredibly grateful to learn that I seem to have a milder case of trich. A lot of the girls I learned about shave their heads and wear wigs because they have pulled out so much hair in concentrated areas. Once again I am reminded that no matter how bad things feel, there is always someone who has it worse.

Through all of this I am so grateful for faith in a higher power. I am grateful for the reminders that this life is temporary, and even if I struggle with trich until the day I die, one day I will not. One day I will be whole and beautiful and confident. I am also grateful to know that everything happens for a reason. This life is a test. There are things I can learn from this. Compassion, patience, perspective. I have felt that in part dealing with Trich will one day enable me to somehow help other people. I don't know exactly how that will play out, but I have felt it. Sometimes i wish I could just see a few steps ahead, but I think the learning and growing in life happen because we can't. Above all I am grateful for a Savior, who has suffered not only for the sins of all mankind, but their sorrows and pain and grief. I know that we are given trials so that we learn to turn to Him. When I feel so totally and utterly alone, that no one could possibly understand me, I know there is one who can.


Love to all

SBB