Right now I'm sitting here while pulling my hair but tonight I;m putting an end to this.
In an hour I will shave my hair ( again). That will give me a few weeks of non pulling ( and also lots of compassion looks from people).
Tomorrow morning I will clean my room from the thousands of hairs on the floor, I will look at the mirror and I will have to get used to shaved me. tomorrow, again, I will have hopes and I will try to star a new chapter, tomorrow morning I'm going to try my best again and I would like your help.
One of the things standing on my way while fighting thsi thing is the fact that I don't share my feelings, and so when I have something to say- instead of talking I pull. So maybe now, when I have a place to share my feelings ( thank god for Internet anonymity) it would be easier, maybe knowing that someone reads what i say will help me have less pressure.. and maybe not.. but I'm willing to give it a try.
By reading you will help me be committed to my goal, I will have to admit when i pull, I will have to be honest and try my best because I will know that someone is reading and maybe holding his/her fingers crossed for me.
So I would like to welcome you to this adventure, I can't promise it will have a happy end but I can promise that I will do my best to make it work to not disappoint myself this time.
So wish me luck and If you don't mind.. I will stop typing now and go find my hair cut machine..
See you soon....
ME
Sep 17, 2009
The BALD and the beautiful... My own true story
I'm 30 years old ( i prefer to say young) and I have been pulling my hair since i was 13. As many others, I don't remember the exact moment when it happened, i just know it did. I have a vague memory of me in an english class pulling one of my long, hazel beautiful hairs. i remember it came out with a white spot at the top and i bite it.. from then its all history
Back then i didn't even realize it was an habit, it was something to do with my hands, some draw in boring classes, i pulled my hair.. as simple as that.. or at least thats what i thought
Then my parents noticed the little patches on my head and started worrying, of course they had no clue what to do with me so they could only do what they imagined would help: scream at me to stop, punish me for pulling and all those things that we know don't help, but that is all they had. Tricho was not even a word they knew ( i think they still don't know it) so they did they're best. just like when a teacher told them i have to stop drawing in class, they punished me and i stopped.. they were convinced same will happen in this case... we all know it didn't
I must say that my parents did the best they could, but since there is almost no info about Tricho ( and we are talking pre-Internet era here) they really didn't know how to deal with it.. so it got worse... and worse.
Finally they took me to see a therapist, all i remember is that it was a woman that wanted to see my family interactions and she wanted to talk to me but you know.. i was 14 years old.. dear therapist let me break the news for you : 14 YEAR OLDS DON'T LIKE TO "TALK ABOUT IT"WITH STRANGERS .. specially not with those that don't even bother in building some kind of trust relationship. So after a few weeks she subscribed me a pill. I don't even remember the name of the pill , all I remember is that it was a little yellow pill and that after a few weeks of taking it, when i realized i was not "me"anymore, i was too quiet, i lost appetite and i could watch TV for days, i told my mom that I was done with that. I'm happy I did. NOTHING ( not even my beautiful hair) is worth losing my personality.. NOTHING
So time goes by and i keep on pulling. I pulled so much i didn't even have to shave my hair to get bald. I have pulled all my hair!!! And i was still convinced it was not a "condition"
By then I went from Junior high to High school and i heard some teachers talking about that poor girl going to school when she goes trough chemotherapy.. thats what they thought i had. Then one of my class mates ended up being my dads patient and he too asked him if my cancer was getting better... my poor dad was so shocked he didn't know what to do. He still doesn't, as far as my family is concerned i have an addiction i can control, i just need to stop pulling my hair and thats it.... so easy when they put it that way
Years gone by and i have been shaving my hair since then, you all know the routine, I shave the head and I tell myself that thats it!!! from now on I'm not pulling anymore.. but as you all know.. a few weeks go by and I start rubbing my head, telling myself "Good.. it's growing nicely"and then i notice one specific hair that is a bit weird and i have to pull it and from then on... I'm back pulling. back having the upper part of my shirts covered with disgusting hairs, back having a rug of hairs on the floor of my room... back to having patches in my head... and back to realizing I'm sick, some people have asthma. others have diabetes.. I have Tricho
A year ago i decided to go get help, i started seeing a therapist that is really doing her best to help me, at some point i event tried a medication : St. Johns worth. I took it for about a month and a half but the doctor himself told me theres not scientific proof that it'll help.. and it didnt and since I didn't want my medical records to include psychiatric medications- after i was done with the samples i got- i never bought it.
So here I am, at 30, fighting something that I have for around 17 years and not ready to give up yet. I;m going to try again, only this time I;m going to share my journey with you, and maybe.. maybe, if i can really share my thoughts and my feelings- it will help the healing process.. and maybe not- but I[m ready to try
Back then i didn't even realize it was an habit, it was something to do with my hands, some draw in boring classes, i pulled my hair.. as simple as that.. or at least thats what i thought
Then my parents noticed the little patches on my head and started worrying, of course they had no clue what to do with me so they could only do what they imagined would help: scream at me to stop, punish me for pulling and all those things that we know don't help, but that is all they had. Tricho was not even a word they knew ( i think they still don't know it) so they did they're best. just like when a teacher told them i have to stop drawing in class, they punished me and i stopped.. they were convinced same will happen in this case... we all know it didn't
I must say that my parents did the best they could, but since there is almost no info about Tricho ( and we are talking pre-Internet era here) they really didn't know how to deal with it.. so it got worse... and worse.
Finally they took me to see a therapist, all i remember is that it was a woman that wanted to see my family interactions and she wanted to talk to me but you know.. i was 14 years old.. dear therapist let me break the news for you : 14 YEAR OLDS DON'T LIKE TO "TALK ABOUT IT"WITH STRANGERS .. specially not with those that don't even bother in building some kind of trust relationship. So after a few weeks she subscribed me a pill. I don't even remember the name of the pill , all I remember is that it was a little yellow pill and that after a few weeks of taking it, when i realized i was not "me"anymore, i was too quiet, i lost appetite and i could watch TV for days, i told my mom that I was done with that. I'm happy I did. NOTHING ( not even my beautiful hair) is worth losing my personality.. NOTHING
So time goes by and i keep on pulling. I pulled so much i didn't even have to shave my hair to get bald. I have pulled all my hair!!! And i was still convinced it was not a "condition"
By then I went from Junior high to High school and i heard some teachers talking about that poor girl going to school when she goes trough chemotherapy.. thats what they thought i had. Then one of my class mates ended up being my dads patient and he too asked him if my cancer was getting better... my poor dad was so shocked he didn't know what to do. He still doesn't, as far as my family is concerned i have an addiction i can control, i just need to stop pulling my hair and thats it.... so easy when they put it that way
Years gone by and i have been shaving my hair since then, you all know the routine, I shave the head and I tell myself that thats it!!! from now on I'm not pulling anymore.. but as you all know.. a few weeks go by and I start rubbing my head, telling myself "Good.. it's growing nicely"and then i notice one specific hair that is a bit weird and i have to pull it and from then on... I'm back pulling. back having the upper part of my shirts covered with disgusting hairs, back having a rug of hairs on the floor of my room... back to having patches in my head... and back to realizing I'm sick, some people have asthma. others have diabetes.. I have Tricho
A year ago i decided to go get help, i started seeing a therapist that is really doing her best to help me, at some point i event tried a medication : St. Johns worth. I took it for about a month and a half but the doctor himself told me theres not scientific proof that it'll help.. and it didnt and since I didn't want my medical records to include psychiatric medications- after i was done with the samples i got- i never bought it.
So here I am, at 30, fighting something that I have for around 17 years and not ready to give up yet. I;m going to try again, only this time I;m going to share my journey with you, and maybe.. maybe, if i can really share my thoughts and my feelings- it will help the healing process.. and maybe not- but I[m ready to try
The person i am and the one I was supposed to be
Let me tell you a bit about myself: I'm a 30 year old single woman, I have friends, i have a good job, actually as far as I can remember there's nothing standing in the way of me and thinsg I want to achieve. I wanted to get a good job that includes educating others, giving lectures? standing in-front of hundreds of people ? I did it. I wanted to go to college and then to get my master's degree?- I'm on my way to finishing my masters.
I have always had lots of friends, I always have people around me asking for my advice, I know that teenagers look up to me and that people trust me. I have a great ability to make people laugh, basically , I could be a success story, another 30 year old happy woman.
BUT I'M NOT
I suffer of Trichotillomania, in plain english that means that i pull my hair. not a random hair once a year when I'm bored but ALL MY HEADS HAIR, ALL THE TIME. You might think I'm crazy.. hell!! i think I'm crazy sometimes.. but I'm not!! I suffer from a medical condition, I'm sick and i think It's about time I'll accept that- and if you want to read me- It's about time you'll accept that too... I'M NOT CRAZY- I'M SICK!
Due to my condition I have no men in my life, I don't look pretty enough ( although i have all the "right"body parts if you know what i mean),I'm not attractive, actually i have even got told more than once by a few men that my hair is repulsive....
I have to agree with them.. it is.. and when you are 30 , and with no partenr to share your life with, when you are 30 and dealing with a weird condition no one ( not even therapists) know too much about- you are not happy. You are frustrated, you atre alone, you loose your self esteem every time you look at the mirror, every time you see the look on people's eyes.. Sometimes you feel that no matter how many beautiful clothes you have, how great you do your makeup, how curvy and feminine your body is- you are still an ugly person that will never be happy again.
This person that feels ugly, this person that has no self esteem ( but will never show it), this person that sits in-front of a computer, trying to get all her frustration out, trying to get someone to listen to her, to understand her and to show some sympathy.. this person is ME. It is not who I was supposed to be, but it is who i grew up to be.. This is the person that hides benith the funny, friendly, happy woman other people see. This is plain me and I if you are willing to listen (read, actually) I want to welcome you into my world.
If you are willing to take this ride, I want to start an experiment here, I want to try and be ME. I want to be able to share my real feelings and my real thoughts. If you don't mind, I'd like to be funny when i feel like being funny, but I would also love to cry, to be sad, to let the real me be the one sitting on this laptop. I would like, for the first time in my life TO BE ME
**You will have to excuse my poor english but as you probably have noticed by now- english is not my mother tongue
I have always had lots of friends, I always have people around me asking for my advice, I know that teenagers look up to me and that people trust me. I have a great ability to make people laugh, basically , I could be a success story, another 30 year old happy woman.
BUT I'M NOT
I suffer of Trichotillomania, in plain english that means that i pull my hair. not a random hair once a year when I'm bored but ALL MY HEADS HAIR, ALL THE TIME. You might think I'm crazy.. hell!! i think I'm crazy sometimes.. but I'm not!! I suffer from a medical condition, I'm sick and i think It's about time I'll accept that- and if you want to read me- It's about time you'll accept that too... I'M NOT CRAZY- I'M SICK!
Due to my condition I have no men in my life, I don't look pretty enough ( although i have all the "right"body parts if you know what i mean),I'm not attractive, actually i have even got told more than once by a few men that my hair is repulsive....
I have to agree with them.. it is.. and when you are 30 , and with no partenr to share your life with, when you are 30 and dealing with a weird condition no one ( not even therapists) know too much about- you are not happy. You are frustrated, you atre alone, you loose your self esteem every time you look at the mirror, every time you see the look on people's eyes.. Sometimes you feel that no matter how many beautiful clothes you have, how great you do your makeup, how curvy and feminine your body is- you are still an ugly person that will never be happy again.
This person that feels ugly, this person that has no self esteem ( but will never show it), this person that sits in-front of a computer, trying to get all her frustration out, trying to get someone to listen to her, to understand her and to show some sympathy.. this person is ME. It is not who I was supposed to be, but it is who i grew up to be.. This is the person that hides benith the funny, friendly, happy woman other people see. This is plain me and I if you are willing to listen (read, actually) I want to welcome you into my world.
If you are willing to take this ride, I want to start an experiment here, I want to try and be ME. I want to be able to share my real feelings and my real thoughts. If you don't mind, I'd like to be funny when i feel like being funny, but I would also love to cry, to be sad, to let the real me be the one sitting on this laptop. I would like, for the first time in my life TO BE ME
**You will have to excuse my poor english but as you probably have noticed by now- english is not my mother tongue
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