Emily's very inspiring story (Christian)

My name is Emily, and I am a 23 year-old wife, mother, and worship 
leader. I grew up as the middle child in a wealthy, upper class, fully 
functioning family. In fact, I grew up in Naples, FL where there is a high 
standard of appearance. My parents were highly involved in the social scene 
and my father held various political positions in the area. My mother was a 
wonderful Christian woman that held our family up in prayer while my father 
worked to better our futures. It was a wonderful and privileged life....one 
that came crashing down when I started pulling out my hair!! 
I remember the first time I pulled. It was in fourth grade, sitting at 
my desk, my best friend next to me, listening to my teacher read, Where the 
Red Fern Grows . I was an animal lover for all my life and I remember this 
particular story being very traumatic (some dogs die.) Well, I wanted 
something to distract me from the story, so I plucked an eye lash out. It 
worked wonderfully and I continued this for the entire 30 minute reading. 
When my mother picked me up from school, she noticed that something wasn't 
quite right with my appearance. When we got home, she realized that I had 
plucked out ALL of my eye lashes. This wasn't that embarrassing to me, so I 
readily fessed up to it, and after a long discussion of the important role of 
the eye lash, I promised never to do it again. On to the scalp!!
The next day, I told my best friend about my distraction tactic, and 
we decided that pulling from our scalps would be less noticeable...in fact, 
we formed the "hair pullers club". It was really all a big joke...but as it 
was easy for my friend to stop, I couldn't. I didn't even do anything with 
the hair that I had pulled...I just wanted to pull on my hair. About a week 
into it, I discovered roots. Hmm, now this changed everything. They were 
fascinating to me! I would pull my hair out and line all the little roots 
along my bedroom window sill. After a month of this activity, I started 
chewing on them. It was like biting nails, just a bad habit. My parents, of 
course, became aware that my hair was missing. Enter the liar.... 
I was, had always been, a very honest child. All of a sudden, I was 
lying about my sudden hair loss. ( side note....I am a firm believer that we 
"wrestle not with flesh and blood but against principalities and powers in 
high places." It think that trich is a very clever attack of the enemy and 
there are several demonic spirits that are involved.) Suddenly ashamed and 
disgusted with myself, I denied any knowledge of my baldness. My parents took 
me to our dermatologist. I had been pulling my hair out in the exact pattern 
of alopecia hair loss. So, some topical medicines were used, but the hair 
loss continued. Now begins the medical search.... 
My parents dragged me to all different types of doctors and hospitals. 
All of the state of Florida as a matter of fact. They would examine me, and 
find nothing wrong...so they would make up reasons for my hair loss. So now, 
I was being pumped with all kinds of medicines that were making me chubby and 
irritable. By the way, and I don't mean this in a bragging way, but up until 
this point, I had been considered the "pretty" one. I was little, tan, had 
big green eyes, and this wild mane of blonde curly hair. People always talked 
about my hair....so it's no wonder that my new lack of image also threw me 
into a dark depression. At school, people teased as a cancer patient. My 
sister, only 19 months older that me, put up brave defenses, and suffered 
tremendous emotional injury because of it. My bother, 5 years younger, was 
kept oblivious most of the time. My parents were at their wits end with me 
and the happy family I had known, started to disappear. 
One night, as my mother as crying out to the Lord, he told her to go 
check on me. It was late, about 9:00pm on a school night as I remember. She 
walked past my open bedroom door and saw me, pulling out my hair. She wasn't 
exactly shocked...our dermatologist told her that he suspected me of pulling 
the hair out; but as I had never before given my parents a reason to distrust 
me, they believed my denial. Well, I was taken into my parents bedroom to 
discuss this new development. In a way, it was a relief to have everything 
out in the open...but now, I was accountable for every new bald patch. I was 
then in the hands of several psychologist and psychiatrists...from Canada, D. 
C, Chattanooga, and Florida. I was on all kinds of antidepressants and other 
drugs. I was absolutely miserable and what's worse, I STILL couldn't stop 
pulling my hair out. Information about trich at this time was still just 
coming out, so my mother had a difficult time researching. What she did find 
out was that most children never recovered and that the suicide rate was over 
50%. So, one can imagine how carefully I was watched at all times. My 
teachers, my siblings, my grandparents....I was never left alone. This, of 
course was humiliating and it lasted all throughout my 5th, 6th, and 7th 
grade years.
By this time, I had no friends, and seriously did want to end it all. 
I remember seeing a movie on TV (which I wasn't exactly allowed to be 
watching) about a kid that slit his wrists. I thought that was a painless way 
to go, so one night, in my bathroom, I cut my right wrist. At that precise 
moment, my sister walked into my room to tell me that dinner was ready. The 
Lord was still ever present. I quickly bound up my wrist and appeared for 
supper. Thankfully it was porkchops and I was able to eat using my left hand. 
However, now I was even MORE ashamed of myself. I was a believer at a very 
young age and I couldn't believe that I had just been about to take my life! 
By this time my parents had me going to the VERY BEST authorities on Trich, a 
married doctor couple in Ft. Lauderdale. 
Finally a break through. I started to ask God to help me stop...I 
finally started to care about my appearance. I guess that also goes along 
with being a preteen. One night, the Lord gave me a dream. I dreamed that my 
family had just come in from the boat, and were swimming in out pool.( A very 
normal activity). All of a sudden, I noticed that my mother was pulling out 
her hair. I said, "No, No! Mom, you're going to start looking like me if you 
keep pulling your hair out!!!" I woke up a different girl. Whatever trigger I 
needed to stop pulling had just happened. I'm not saying that staying 
pull-free was easy, but my mind set was different now. 
Well, my hair grew back fuller and curlier than ever and I started 
living a good life again with a happy family and lots of friends. I became 
popular over night once I started a new high school. So, trich seemed to be a 
thing of the past. Then.....
I was 20 years old, out of college for a while, and living in Houston 
as part of an inner city ministry team. (I had been a missionary for over a 
year by now.) All of a sudden I started pulling again. I don't know why I did 
it, but I was able to stop before I did any real damage. Still, I was having 
to arrange my hair so that it covered up a good portion of the top of my 
head. I learned how to do a punky-styled comb-over. During the re-growth 
phase, I got engaged to my best friend and the wedding date quickly arrived. 
My hair had grown out enough to get a cute, short hair cut....and I thought 
it would be a fun thing to do for my wedding. I decided to go for the 
works...new color, new cut, everything. Well, during the bleaching process, 
the poor hair stylist accidentally burnt my hair all off!!!! I was 
devastated, especially because chemically burned hair takes up to seven years 
to grown back!! I went into hiding.... 
Thankfully, my veil was very thick and my husband very understanding. 
My mom and sister (now my best friends), rallied alongside me. I was so 
depressed and angry...but then the Lord did the most miraculous thing. ...He 
healed me from all the emotional baggage that comes with trich. Even though I 
hadn't pulled my hair out, I was bald....I mean, REALLY bald....shiny head 
bald!! Well, my husband thought that I should just go to a wig, instead of 
wearing scarves. So, my sister and I went shopping and then shaved my 
head...to give me a new start. However, this meant that my husband would see 
my BALD head....(I was too embarrassed to even sleep without a head covering 
up until then.) Well, that first night, while we were lying in bed, my 
husband put his hand on my head and started to massage it. Something deep 
inside broke...and all the emotions of trich that I had carried with me as a 
little girl until now, came flooding out. I wept, and wept, and wept. The 
Lord brought my trich to the light AFTER the fact. I started being able to 
talk about it with other people. In fact, had it not been for that hair 
stylist in Houston, I wouldn't have never faced my emotions and I would have 
never seen it as an opportunity for ministry. So, now, I am just waiting to 
see what God wants me to do with my testimony. And by the way, my hair is 
growing back with determination...in fact, it's almost back to normal. All 
Glory to the Lord!!!

Emily