a start

I am a 20 year old female, in my second year of college. Despite my fingers' efforts, I love the auburn color of my hair.

My relationship with Trichotillomania began a few years ago, when I slowly learned that a guy I knew had been dealing with it. I knew that he had other mental issues as well, and secretly had that in common with him. I sometimes wish that I had never looked up the name of the condition, that I had never known about it... though who really knows if his condition spurred mine. Logically and etiologically, it makes little sense. I barely even talked with him.

I believe I experienced a time of depression for maybe eight months to a year, approximately two years ago. However, my constant battle seems to be with anxiety. I consulted with a therapist, only once, after a majority of my depression had subsided (I suppose) and having discussed my story and my stressors with her, she told me that I should work on anxiety. The visit felt rather futile. I've taken a couple courses in psychology now, and read quite a lot about mental health, yet it is difficult for me to recognize when I need help and better coping mechanisms.

I know when my first urges to search my scalp with my fingers originated. Perhaps even before my time of melancholy ceased, I had developed impulse-control issues with scratching and picking at my scalp. In isolated incidents after that, I would find rare, gleaming white hairs on my head. I have only found four at most.

Some night during the last summer, I found myself sitting on the bathroom counter in the middle of the night, staring into the mirror as I searched my scalp for those rogue white hairs. This began to happen more frequently, and soon I would even search-and-destroy these hairs while on my computer at night. At this point, it did not feel like a terrible compulsion, and there were no bald spots to be seen. Still, I did begin to develop my methods during that time. My fingers would feel for the coarse hairs, the ones that felt mutated from my generally straight/sometimes wavy long hair. I have only ever straightened my hair once, yet I still have felt ashamed of those fly-aways and frizziness that result from my apathy towards haircare. ANYHOW

This recent semester of college was difficult for me. My roommate and I added a new girl, a friend of ours, who turned out to be an incessantly inconsiderate know-it-all who would rarely leave the room. She certainly affected my levels of anxiety, as I would try very hard to avoid talking with her, but would rarely have time to myself. I soon felt as stressors like this roommate and thinking of difficult classes boosted both my anxiety and the power of the compulsion to look for those bad hairs on my head. Yes, I would pull if nothing in particular was on my mind, if my hands just needed to feel busy... but it certainly increased even more with anxiety.

By the midterms, I had developed bald spots and places where the hair was thin. I had begun paying very close attention to how I would fix my hair after a shower, to make sure no one noticed. I have changed the side of my part multiple times. I have felt ashamed and nervous while cuddling or napping with my boyfriend, in fear that he has seen a bald patch.

Currently, my pulling is very hard to control. The way I keep my part now is even starting to look bad. My hair used to be almost too thick, but now it feels greasy very quickly because it is so thin. At Christmas my grandma asked if I had Alopecia, tossing out a story about someone's niece. Naturally, I said no. Just tonight my mother asked if I was pulling my hair out. I told her I had an itch. If my hair is in a ponytail, one patch near the back starts to stick up, because the hairs there are only very short.

I am not ready to admit to anyone that I am struggling with this, even though I am afraid that some already suspect it. I know they would be supportive of me, but... again... some stupid, stubborn part of me believes in self-help and rugged individualism. I know I have not struggled with this for very long, but I feel so marred already. I want to stop.