I was doing so well…

I haven’t felt the urge to majorly pull for a while now. Yeah, I lose some strands here and there, but mostly I’ve been too focused on school and life to pay attention to my scalp.

Then today I was studying for my test in my room and fell asleep only to wake up to realize I missed the test. I couldn’t control it. I felt completely paralyzed. I pulled and pulled and pulled. There was this huge clump of 3-ish inch hair collecting in my hands. Months of progress - gone. I just looked at it and was too devastated to even cry. Some of the roots were bloodstained. My scalp actually hurt. Usually i cannot feel pain there at all.

I covered it up with makeup. I filled in the soda can sized bald spot filled with baby-fine surviving hair with brown shadow and hoped and hope and will continue to hope this doesn’t happen again.

If I had to explain trich to a person who doesn’t understand it I would put it like this. Have you ever had a splinter in your finger? You want to get that foreign object out of your body as soon as possible, right? That feeling of discomfort is what I have with every single of the thousands of follicles in my body. My thick hair feels like fat needles stuck in my skin. So I tear it out to feel lighter. I don’t want to, but I’ve done it since I was 6.

I’m thankful for my fortune. My physical strength. My intelligence. I’m not thankful for my impulse control disorder. The bald spots, the tics, the outbursts, and the lack of self control do not define me. They are aspects of who I have been since I was a child and I will not let them bring me down.

At age 24, my spots are growing back damaged and grey, but they will grow back and I will continue on. It. Will. Be. Fine.