Coming to Terms With the Truth - Trichotillomania
I started writing this blog to tell my story, like so many others are doing. But yet, I keep very private about all this with those friends who personally know me. Co-workers, high school classmates, neighbors, etc … Why am I doing this? Does this mean I don’t want to be “found out” or looked at differently? Am I really being honest about who I am?
Why am I writing this blog under IAMicried and not my real name? I chose the name IAMicried because I remember thinking growing up “Doesn’t anyone see what’s going on? Can’t you see my tears? Here I am. It’s me and my father is molesting me”. The name once was about the tears I cried. But now it is about screaming out to the world “Hey you, this is me. I’m important and I have something to say. Listen. I am an Incest Survivor. Don’t turn away, but look & listen to what I have to say.”
Growing up in high school in the 70’s was all about how you looked, who you hung out with, and what you were doing on Saturday nights. I wasn’t popular. Not a cheerleader or sports jock. Mediocre grades. Some of my friends called me a book worm because I studied so much. Some of my friends nicknamed me “Smiley”. They said I always laughed and smiled. I don’t remember that. But I was very very embarrassed about how I looked. Still am today.
I have a disorder called Trichotillomania (hair-pulling disorder)
Trichotillomania (trik-o-til-o-MAY-ne-uh) is an irresistible urge to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other areas of your body. I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t seem normal for me to NOT be doing this. In high school I was terrified of Phy Ed (or Gym class). I was not like the other girls. I would never “pick” in front of anyone. Always in private would I do this. Some days I’d only have a few stubble of eyelashes and nearly no eyebrows. At times, I wondered, doesn’t anyone see this when they talk to me. When finally someone would ask me, I’d just say, oh they are just very lightly colored. Most times that was enough for the question to be dropped.
I was asked one time “Why do you do that? Pick your eyelashes, eyebrows, leg hairs and even pubic hairs? Doesn’t that hurt?” I think the whys are because I don’t want to be noticed. If my eyes look bad, then I won’t have any boyfriends (however now I’m on my 2nd marriage). Boys like girls with curly fancy styled hair, makeup, blush, lipstick, and eye shadow & mascara. I don’t do any of that. I’m just me. Without the eyelashes & eyebrows people would leave me alone. But is that really why I can spend hours a day just “picking”?? I believe it is an escape for me as well. I go into my private world like I have for many years and escape. I feel no pain. I have no thoughts (well yes, tons rushing all over at the same time in my head). I am mesmerized. I am not ME anymore. Yes, that is it. It is as if I can transport outside of myself.
So the next time you talk to someone, really look at them. Look at their eyes. What do they tell you? Are they happy? Are they hurting?
Hey there, this is me.
I’m an Incest Survivor
I have a disorder - Trichotillomania
I pick my hairs
I would love to hear from others who may be suffering with this disorder. I've never met anyone and have never heard of anyone. Maybe we can help each other.
I encourage you to follow me
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I have tried to dig them out of me my entire life! If I could only peel off my skin, I could be free! My body has Never been a "Temple", but Always a Prison, keeping me trapped here & giving them something to scrutinize, poke at, hit, hurt & hold down! I am beyond tired! I am Weary! It will never end! Until the day one of us takes our last breath! & w/all the damage & our ages, the time it would take to even begin to heal enough to take a deep breath isn't enough. & honestly, it all seems like too much effort now! I just want to go to sleep & never wake up in prison again!
ReplyDeleteThank you, kjmajick, for sharing your pain with me. I’m sorry you feel like you are in a prison, trapped, with no end or solution in sight. I am 52 years old and can’t remember the exact day I began “picking” my eyelashes or hair in other areas on my body. I know that I was very young, though. I have my good days, and bad days. But, I’ve learned to live with it. Hiding it even now. Embarassed when someone brings up the fact that I (at times) look like I have no eyelashes. The first time someone spoke to me about it, I thought I would die. But guess what, I didn’t!! I don’t use makeup to coverup. Never liked makeup. I’ve learned to accept the fact, that this is who I am. And I now know WHY I do it. I don’t like it – but reading about Trichotillomania, learning all I can, reaching out to others by telling my story, is really helping me in my acceptance of this habit we both share. Hugs to you!
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