Pronounced: Trick - Oh - Till - Oh - Mania (Trich for short, we cool like that)
What it is: Obsessive repetitive disorder in which one pulls from hair.
It all started at 9 years old, hearing the sweet words pour from a young teachers mouth about SATS, you know those tests you take as a child? Yes, those.
“We’re not going to spoon feed you anymore”
Ominous right? Terrifying? You’re correct. I’m obviously joking but I was 9 years old faced with this option and I decided then and there he was talking about life as a whole and how you will have to trudge through this adventure on your own.
I felt alone, I felt unsure about myself and most of all I felt anxious. A 9 year old feeling anxious, this was not feeling I had felt as a child and so, I did the best thing I could do and, pulled. I started, plucking, pulling, tugging, removing strand after strand from my scalp until red, until pain until bleeding, constantly and never wanting to stop.
Trichotillomania has effected my life every single day from then. I’m self critical in most situations, especially in public. I’m on edge that someone will mention it, it’s so obvious I doubt anybody would, but it’s there lingering in the front of my mind, I’m always on edge and it’s so exhausting.
I went through high school unable to be free, as a sagittarius soul is, I was always mean to people who probably didn’t deserve it because I was so mean to myself, I never wanted to be hurt so I always put up a fight to show how I wasn’t weak and how I wasn’t vulnerable, realising only now how weak and vulnerable I was because of my aggressive nature. As I spoke to friends through out the years they have mentioned how little they cared about the bald spots that appeared and reappeared through the years, one of the loveliest things was said by a friend who simply said “with or without hair, I still love you” and it was one of the first times I realised I am not just a girl with big bald spots looming over her life and I wouldn’t let it rule me.
Of course like any teenage girl I was already running into self esteem issues left and right and with this weird disorder I felt one thousand times more out of place than any one else. (The world revolves around me, obviously) Everything seemed very hard at this time of my life, friends were being young and beautiful and I seemed to accidentally isolate myself because I was scared from literally everything, how sad it was to feel fear every time I drew a breath. This led to a couple of years I am ashamed to say of listening to punk music and wearing black vans, listen we’ve all been there so quit the judgement thank-you.
This left me being a sad bald teenager for a very long time and I thought that’s all I was.
However, if everyone else is something special then so am I, but of course I’m a awful human being and my mind would tennis match back and forth about how I’m not special but also I am the worst human alive. All because of this stupid disorder my DNA decided to throw at me, cheers for that. I got extensions which were hot and itchy, I got them so new people who moved into 6th form wouldn’t ask questions about my scalp showing through the tufts of hair sprouting from it. I got rid of that pretty quickly because masking your issues don’t work. I would’ve thought I’d learnt my lesson however getting my first job I decided to wear a bandana to work, with two tiny space buns poking out the sides, if you imagine a massive hipster who has just decided to rock that man bun and hasn’t got any hair to actually do that, add a bit of weight and some boobs and ta-da! you have me at nineteen years old.
I can’t say I have improved. I removed my bandana one day after telling people in work not to ask questions or be annoying about anything. To be honest I doubt anybody cares about my hair as much as me. I still don’t want to see anybody from school because it’s embarrassing to be seen with me, therefore I’m doing them a favour, obviously great for the self esteem that.
I just showered and thought why not talk about it on the internet and to be honest with you all, I don’t know why I am. I think the point I’m trying to make is that your biggest insecurity doesn’t mean that’s your whole person, there is so much more to people than just the one problem they see with themselves. I’m done with thinking how hard it is for me because my hands decide to snap to my head every time I get hot, hungry, tired, sad or in most cases pure boredom, this shouldn’t affect me so much that I don’t leave my house or be always ready to argue with someone, because that is quite tiring and honestly I’m getting grey hairs.
It’s ok to be vulnerable. It’s ok to show your flaws because literally nobody cares, that’s what I’m trying to get at, and if they do say something in a mean spirited way how sad for their soul that it’s so tormented it needs to point out a insecurity and try and belittle you, if that’s what they want to do with their day so be it, but it’s lovely of them to tell you about what you already know because you and I both know you’re a massive smart ass who loves to be all knowing all powerful.
I realise now, at 20 that just because I have bald patches or just because you have an insecurity doesn’t make you any less of a meaning to life, it doesn’t make you uglier or grosser or more monster-like than the rest of them. For my issue, it’s hair- you know? It’s a really really weird type of hair style that, granted I did not pay for and if I did I would request, neigh DEMAND my money back and it’s just a part of me, it doesn’t make up 100% of me because I am more than just my habit or my insecurity.
You are important too and life needs to be lived with excitement about what’s around the corner, not fear. It makes you bitter inside. It’s not realistic it’s sad, and it’s not a bad thing to expect happiness from life.
I’ve grown since 9 years old but I still get teary eyed like some toddler whenever someone mentions the fact my hair is proper weird. Perhaps I will try yoga or meditation and it’ll fix my problems and then I’ll grow my hair and live my life, move to the welsh mountains and forever shower in waterfalls but for the time being I think I’m going to try and love myself despite my massive bald flaw.
I’ll report back with my findings in the next blog post.
Think of yourself as a luxury and not a burden, it probably helps the old mental health thing.
If you get this far thank-you for reading my word vomit of this. I realise that this is a very non-issue issue I’m talking about however it’s important to me. Trich has ran most of my life, it’s made me be ugly for 11 years. Of course I am in no way saying bald patches are the source to my ugliness (anymore my whole face and body in general is a bit gross too) but it was for a really really long time, and for the majority of the time I believed it. I still do to some extent.
To end, (finally) love yourself because if anything it’s easier in the long run, be easy and enjoy adventure as it comes.
p.s if you wanna see my baldies u can click here :-) [bit weird but i rly cant judge x]
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