Hair Pulling

trichotillomania-is-hell asked: i have to say this. i don't know if you'll read this. you can read my info, i just got my tumblr about trichotillomania today. since second grade i've been pulling out my eyelashes. i pulled my eyebrows for a year, then somehow found the will to stop. my eyelashes used to be my pride and joy. they were long and dark and beautiful. but sadly that is a thing of the past. my parents know about it but they think i've stopped. it's a fight everyday that i'm willing to battle.

Hi! I am so glad to get your message—not because you have trich, but because I’ve read some of your blog and now I want to encourage you. Trich can be beat! You can stop pulling your eyelashes! You WILL!

Being fourteen and determined to stop are two big points in your favor. I let my trich go on so long and get so ingrained in my life that the battle to stop was almost like losing a limb. If you can get the upper hand of this now, DO IT. I didn’t start pulling out my scalp hair until I was a sophomore in high school. Today, my trich triumph has to do with conquering that, and I still pull my eyelashes and brows. There were times when I wished for the “simple” days of only pulling my lashes and brows! Tackle it and take it out while your pull-range is smaller or you will regret it, like me.

You say that your eyelashes were your pride and joy. One of the things having trich taught me was to let go of my personal vanity. Please don’t be offended—I’m not calling you vain. What I mean is that I learned to value more things, better things, about myself than the way I look. I’d rather be loved for my sense of humor and intelligence than my figure or face. Be confident, enjoy being the person you are, and don’t let it depend on whether you have a full row of eyelashes or not.

You mentioned your parents. My dad was terrible when it came to my pulling. He would yell at me for it and make me feel like what I was doing was disobedient. Most of the reason I lied and hid it for so long was because of how he responded. I’m telling you this because I understand how it feels to have a parent who totally misunderstands trich. My mom has always tried to help me stop in any way she can, which I will always be grateful for, but didn’t do much to actually help in the long run. The only person who made a difference was a counselor I saw who gave me the mantras I use. But what it REALLY comes down to is YOU. Not your parents. Not your friends or a counselor or anybody. Yours are the fingers pulling the hair. Yours is the willpower refusing to pull.

There are a lot of different methods you can use to block the impulse to pull. I’ve posted all of mine on this blog, and there are plenty more to be found across the tumblr landscape. I’d love to hear how you get along, and if there’s anything I can do to encourage or help please message me anytime.

Anonymous asked: hello there! i struggle with trichotillomania aswell. I pull my eyelashes out... My top lids are nearly all gone, but I don't touch my bottom lids (and I hope I never do). It's so hard when people ask me why I have no eyelashes. I usually tell them it's a really long story. I just want to cry but I can't stop pulling. I know exactly what you are feeling. Sometimes it's good to know that there are other people out there struggling like you are. Any suggestions to help me?

Hi anon! I’m so very sorry to hear that you have trich, but I’m glad to hear from you! It’s amazing what a difference not feeling completely alone can make. Not in a ‘misery loves company’ way, but in a ‘we’re all in this together’ way. I’m happy to give you what advice I can, and there are a ton of other trichotillomaniacs on tumblr who have listed really helpful methods that might make a difference for you too.

Hiding it: if you’re a girl, fake eyelashes might be a start. I use a lot of mascara and eyeliner after a bad bout. There is also something called Latisse which makes your lashes grow—the active ingredient is the same thing prescribed by eye surgeons for post-surgery healing, and basically what it does is tell the eyelash to keep growing after reaching its natural stopping point. I have never used it so I can’t tell you what to expect.

Honestly, I think saying “it’s a long story” to the curious is plenty sufficient. What business is it of theirs? If you’re tired of your friends asking why your eyelids look so strange, tell them. I know—easier said than done. It took me years to tell any friends, and those are still a limited few. Once I told people, though, it was almost as though this HUGE THING became almost insignificant. They stopped wondering why there was so much hair on the floor, I stopped having this huge secret hanging over me, and they became really supportive and—best of all—forgetful. It wasn’t a mystery anymore, so became almost minimalized. I like it that way. Some people aren’t so lucky in friends (and family) as I. If you think they’ll be scornful of this thing you struggle with, don’t tell them—and find other friends.

I still haven’t stopped pulling my eyelashes but that’s mostly because I haven’t given it my all. You have to WANT IT. Apparently I don’t. Apparently you don’t either. If you want it, you will put all of your energy into doing the opposite of what you momentarily want to do in order to gain a result that lasts. It is NOT easy… but it is worth it.

Here is a list of my trich-fighting methods (yes, I use ALL of them, simultaneously). The rest of the post is here, you might find it helpful.

• Awareness. Stay “awake.” When you notice your hands moving toward your hair, stop yourself. This is one of the biggest steps to stopping and the hardest.
• Blockades. They work wonders [particularly for eyelashes].
• Imagine pulling instead of actually pulling. Sometimes I’ll sit with a hair between my fingers and imagine pulling it out. Imagining the feeling I’d get usually does the trick—sans guilt and it leaves one more hair on my head.
• Pay attention to what triggers your pulling or picking. Avoid it as much as possible.
• Pay attention to what soothes your pulling or picking. Indulge it. Veer toward it as often as possible. (One of my triggers is lying in bed waiting to fall asleep. If I can fall asleep quickly, I’m not awake to pull, so I try to physically tire myself over the span of the day)
• Mantras. (This depends on you personally. I am a devout Christian and one of the biggest things that helped me stop pulling was my faith because of the hope and strength it gave me. If you have no religious affiliation, there are still plenty of phrases you can use. For example, yelling the word NO! when you notice your hands beating a path to your hair—yeah that one’s usually pretty effective)

They say it takes six weeks to break a habit. Set that goal. Go six weeks without pulling. It sounds colossal, I know. But you’ll make it. You’ll make it to six weeks—and you’ll think to yourself, “Well, I made it this far, and I really don’t want to start over. Hmm… I bet I could make it another six weeks.” And you will. And you’ll set a goal to be pull-free for a year and you will make it there too. And everything in you that enjoys pulling will be a little weaker against the joy you feel from not pulling, from being free from it. All the things I listed above carried me out of it, but it’s that sweet joy and thankfulness that keeps me going now.

If anything here helps you, I’d love to hear it—and if you discover something that will help me stop, please share! We’re all in this together :-) Best wishes!!!

Three Years

Spring is my favorite season. This section of the calendar is particularly sweet: it’s the anniversary of the last time I pulled a hair out of my head (I’m not referring to lashes or brows). Every time I come swinging around this corner and can add a number to the Years Without Incident tally, I feel rejuvenated and relieved. It is such a good freedom! I am so thankful!!!

dear fingers,

Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop!

and the gavel fell on “clearly due”

[the follow up to this] Last night most of the eyelashes on the outer half of both my lower lids took a hike. I’m groaning but I’m determined to look at the good results, not the obvious bad ones.

• I stopped myself before I cleaned out the whole section: self-control!
• I have enough lashes left to blend everything into normalcy with mascara: confidence intact!
• Didn’t touch my eyebrows: relief
• It was weird—my lids were itchy, like they weren’t used to having all this hair crowding in. That’s nice. That hasn’t been the case in a while. Progress!

The lashes lasted 12 days. That’s pretty significant. That’s a long time to have full rows. Now my goal is to grow them all back and triple that time. A whole month. I bet I could do it.

lovely lashes

For the first time in years there are no gaps in my eyelashes. Not even small ones the mascara is hiding. It’s been almost exactly three years since the last time I pulled anything from my scalp, which makes this even sweeter! I am so happy!

One of two things will now happen:

• I will pull out a devastating chunk because, well, we’re clearly due.
• I won’t pull any at all!

I am so hopeful that the line of black will remain unbroken, but I’ve been here (well, close to here) many times before and have no reason to trust myself. Attention, self: be diligent.

And to you beautiful trichotillomaniacs out there: you can conquer this! And have a wonderful weekend.

the blessings that have come

• Checked vanity
• Necessary humility
• Learning to love my strengths more than I hate my weaknesses
• Empathy for others’ struggles
• Trust in God to pull me through this
• Trust in those who I told the truth to be supportive, not derisive
• Trust that God has a reason for it
• Determination to triumph over something that had always symbolized failure
• Preparation for an uncommon & rather solitary suffering of another kind

Be thankful in everything.

the first time

I was very young when I discovered the Joy of Pulling. The scene is burned into my memory for reasons unknown. I was lying in  bed reading, and my eyelid itched and I pulled out a bunch of my eyelashes - left eye, lower eyelid - and doing it felt really good.

When my horrified parents next saw my face, their reaction frightened me. For the next few years I would lie about my pulling episodes, and it started with “They fell out.” “I think they fell out.” “I don’t know what happened.”

I wish my parents had responded differently. I don’t blame them for how they did respond, because they knew less of what was going than even I did - but it had to be clear that a very specific section of my eyelashes did not jump off of my face. I wish they had not accepted my lies. I wish they had said “You pulled them out. Don’t do it again.” I don’t know if it would have worked, but I would have tried to obey (I’m a firstborn!) and even if I had failed, I wouldn’t have spent the next ten years bent double under the guilt of lying to them about not knowing when I was pulling. I wish I hadn’t lied.

What I really wish is that I didn’t have trich.

6th sense

Reaching to the top of my head provides emotional comfort to some unconscious part of me. I think this is the reason for trichotillomania, the foundation beneath the things that feed it: the addictive qualities it possesses and the need for control and the reaction to texture; I think it’s something chemical inside my body that is reacting to an undetermined prompt.

Something(s) hits the trigger and a synapse goes off or a line of neurotransmitters connect or hormones flood my body with the sense that doing this is good while simultaneously putting up a shield around the part of my consciousness that will stop me.

But what is the trich equivalent of red kryptonite? What is the hormone? Why does it react differently inside my body than someone’s who isn’t a tricotillomaniac? No one in my family does this. What is it about me?

All quiet.

Making a glad note of it.