Trich memories

One day I hope to write a book on trich and my experiences with it. There are so many different things that happened, emotions, hurts etc, that I thought of writing it all down now, as I remember it, to make sure that I have it that one day if the book-idea will realize. So these are just a few thing, in no specific order and not trying to tell anybody anything. It is almost like a little diary for me.

My most embarrassing trich moments:

Once my mom took me to a hairdresser to have my hair cut (my hair was very bad at that stage, and directly after the hairdresser had cut my hair, she called the assistant and urged her to quickly go and sterilize the scissors which she had cut my hair with. I felt ugly, dirty and as if I had a contagious’ disease…..

Probably the worst moment for me was a few years ago, after I had stopped pulling from my scalp… but was still pulling badly at all other places ‘under the chin’ (smile), and my hair pulling was a very big no-no in discussions. I didn’t know at that stage that it had a name etc. I just thought I was crazy and knew I had to hide it very carefully.

I live in a area which produces something like 20% of the world’s gold. Well, I went on an underground mine tour, which took the whole day. My mom and all her old friends went with. After the tour, we had a big lunch in the mine canteen, and the mine’s public relations officer was there ( a woman) as well as quite a few mine managers. One of these managers was my old neighbor, from when I was married the first time. We used to be great friends. We were standing in a row to get our lunch when this mine PRO came up to me, and right in front of all my mom’s friends and this ex-neighbour of us, asked in a LOUD voice: Hi Amanda, so do you still pull out your hair? It was terrible… I wanted to die! I didn’t even know the woman.. have no idea how she knew me. I still don’t know what I answered her, and there was just this terrible silence. Oh grrr… it was bad!

On shrinks

Oh, the damage they do because they don’t know the truth about trich!

My father was told probably 20 years ago, that I pull out my hair because he didn’t give me enough attention. For 20 odd years he must have walked around with this guilt feelings, believing everytime he saw me, that he was the cause of my trich.

In later years my father started drinking heavily. Thank God today he doesn’t drink at all anymore. But at one stage in my life, I blamed his drinking for my pulling. Oh, I never told him that, but thought that maybe that was the reason that I pulled. Well, we all looked for reasons, didn’t we? Even us pullers cannot understand why we’re doing it and are looking for reasons. That is why we need to get the truth abt trich out to the millions of sufferers out there who still believe that it is a habit, or they’re crazy etc.

One thing I always wonder about.. why didn’t any shrink EVER ask me why I pulled out my hair? They asked me all other kinds of questions – about my relationship with my father, mother, friends, sister, school etc. etc (whatever they could think of), but NO one EVER discussed my actual hairpulling with me. Of course, for the first few years I lied to everyone so they did think that it fell out (because of stress). But even after my father saw me pulling and realized what was going on all the years, why didn’t anybody ever ask me about it? Ok, ok, I admit (smile), I did scream at my mom the first time when she confronted me with the pulling (totally denied it), but after that no-one ever mentioned it. Maybe my mom was scared of mentioning it (after me screaming at her), but certainly the shrinks shouldn’t be scared of me?

I still wonder how my life would have been if I had known the truth abt trich when I started so many years ago (in 1975).

On Denial

I lived in total denial of my trich for most of my life. Oh, I knew I did it, of course, but that was just the physical part of me. Emotionally I totally denied it. Even though I tried to stop, it was never a conscious thought or decision. I was too much in denial. I remember after I was saved (thank you Jesus), I still had an incredibly low self esteem, and I really tried to work out why. Even in trying as hard as I could, I couldn’t get a reason for this low self esteem. I knew, looking at the facts, that I didn't need to feel that way, yet I felt like nothing. Why? I just couldn’t get an answer. That is how deep my denial went. That changed in a flash, the moment I came onto the internet and saw that my hairpulling had a name etc. I IMMEDIATELY knew that I had found the reason for my low self esteem!

When I was younger.. the first few years of my pulling, I lived in even deeper denial. I lived this lie of poor Amanda whose hair suddenly started falling out mysteriously. You know, even though I obviously knew that I did it myself (in huge, huge quantities), I basically believed my own lie. At that stage, my pulling was so bad that I had almost no hair left on my scalp. I was wearing a little cap firstly (not allowed in our schools, had to get special permission), and later even a wig. But you know, at that stage I didn’t have trouble with mocking and stares. Oh, I knew abt it, but in my own eyes I was the victim of a terrible thing.. my hair falling out without me having any part in it. So I felt sorry for myself, but still almost held my head high. I didn’t like the attention on me, yet it made me feel a bit special.. I was different, I was the one that they felt sorry for (the teachers etc). That is how deep my denial of the actual situation was.

Another aspect of denial is the fact that some things seemed to have hurt so much, that I still don’t remember it. My brain went into denial, because I couldn’t handle the situation and the hurt, I guess. My wig is one of those situations. I know there was a wig in my past, a horrible one! Very old fashioned and very easy to see that it was a wig. Yet, I cannot remember when I started wearing it or when I stopped. I know it was when I was round about 13, but that is all I know. How did I explain it? Did I first wear the cap (I think so), and then when it became too bad, go to the wig? And after the wig, when it went better, did I got back to the cap first, and then later to no cap? Or did I go from the wig to nothing? I really, really cannot remember. I guess it is one of those things that God needs to bring my rememberance back for me. At this stage, I don’t recall any of that detail. In fact, a very big part of my life is a blank, I cannot remember much detail. I did acrobatics and played netball and did everything expected of me in the gym class in school. How did I do it with that cap on? Esp. with the acrobatics (like gymnastics). Most of the time your head is down with the exercises. What did I do to prevent the cap from falling off? Much later in my life, I did yoga for a few years. Even though many people didn’t know about my bald patches, I had a big patch most of the time (maybe the size of my hand), with long pieces of hair combed over it. How did I do yoga without anyone noticing? I truly don’t know.

Interestingly enough, it seems like my mom also went into denial. When I talk to her about it, she says that it seems like a bad dream, but that she cannot remember much. She knows that it must have been terrible on them, but she cannot remember. She cannot even help me with the details of the wig. She cannot remember it!

Denial and pain

I had a teacher when I was 13 (first year in high school) who really resented me. (long story why, but it wasn’t something that I did wrong. Hey, it is the truth!… smile). Anyway, she really gave me a hard time in school, picking on me the whole time etc. One day, apparently, in a class of 35 kids, she actually took my wig off my head, and told me that I should now stop this nonsense! Can you imagine a teacher doing that? My mom told me about it the other day, but you know, I know NOTHING about it? Nothing! Oh, I remember her picking on me etc., but I remember nothing of the wig story. Apparently I told my mom, and my parents went to see her after that and it was a big story, but I remember nothing. Deep, deep hurts.

Oh, on discovery.

I vividly remeber the night my mom discovered my first bald patch. I don’t know what I thought, but up to then I never realized that my pulling would have any consequences. I pulled without realizing that I will get bald patches. I never even thought of it. One night we were having supper and as I bowed my head forward, my mom almost had a heart attack when she saw the bald patch. Up to then I didn’t even know it myself! It was probably the size of a biggish wrist watch face. The supper was immediately broken up and my mom rushed me to her doctor, whom she knew well after working with him for many years (she is a nursing sister). I remember going there, I remember the fear of discovery, and that night my life of lies started. I said I didn’t know why it looked like that.. and the doctor bought it, as did everyone else for 4 years. So the doctor made the ‘diagnoses’ which would carry me for the next few years… my hair fell out because of stress. I wonder what would have happened if the doctor knew then about trichotillomania?

On guilt

All the years (before my parents knew the truth), I lived with terrible guilt.

I knew that I was pulling out my hair, but I didn’t tell them. My parents took me to various doctors, homeopaths, psychologists, psychiatrists etc. Obviously to no avail. Esp. the homeopath caused me a lot of guilt. My parent’s medical aid didn’t pay for it, and knowing that we weren’t rich, I knew it was costing my parents a lot of money for the visit and the medicine, while I knew very well that it wouldn’t make any difference! My hair didn’t fall out, I pulled it out! I wasn’t allowed to eat and drink certain things, well knowing that it won’t make any difference! Of course I also had guilt feelings abt the pain and worries I was causing my parents. Also the stares. And the whole time I was blaming myself for what I did, for what I caused, for being so bad and crazy.

There was another aspect to guilt that I experienced. When my babies were small, I would often find them lying on my bed, beautifully clothed, bathed, smelling like a real baby….. but on their clothes were these long, brown hair! I knew that hairdressers have to go for yearly examinations to their lungs, to make sure that the hair didn’t clog up in their lungs. And here was my babies lying amidst hair the whole day. Yet, I couldn’t stop pulling! What kind of a mother was I? I believed that I was a terrible person and mother, who couldn’t

even stop pulling for the sake of her own children. A mother who placed her ‘pleasures’ above the health of her children. Bad, bad, bad!

On hope and shame

One of my biggest fears when I went to the hospital for the birth of my kids, were that I would be out of control by the pain, and move my head in such a way that people would discover my secret. The fear for the pain of being in labour, was NOTHING against this fear of the discovery of my lifelong secret. But yet another fear I had, was for the shaving of the pubic area. How would I explain to the nurse why I had so little pubic hair? I was terrifiied! But no one said a word and the birth went fine. You know, I had so much hope after that. Now that my pubic hair were all one length (well, no length), maybe I could work at it and control my pulling? I was so positive that I would succeed. Sigh… I guess you know what happened to that hope?

When my second child was due to be born I decided that I wasn’t going to go through the same fear again, so I shaved myself. Sigh…. Just to hear that the don’t shave for second children, only for the first births! Well, I had the same hope again… with the same results. (sigh, sigh, sigh).

Well, that is it for now. As I remember more I will add it on here.