“Im a Trichster, a straight up T, but the Trichster life, ain’t the life for me!”- Abby, 15 from Ohio
I’m sitting here typing this at the computer, just like any girl. Except I have no hair.
I don’t remember the first time I pulled out a hair… but I know it was at the beginning of my 8th grade 2008 summer. 8th grade was the only year I’ve felt like a normal kid for a long time. I loved 8th grade. Now, I’m in 9th grade. I never thought things could twist so sharply and quickly like this. All of the sudden I have no hair. I got pulled out of school because of anorexia and depression. It’s weird; you never think that something like that is going to happen to YOU.
I was doing summer gym during the summer so that I could get that class out of the way for high school. It was really nice because I could walk to where we did summer gym every day. But I always had to wear a headband, right above my forehead. My friends would ask “why do you always wear a headband, and why is it always in the same place?” I just laughed it off, but the real reason was because I had pulled out the hair on the top of my forehead. It wasn’t something I really wanted the whole world to know at that time. When we had to go swimming, I was a little worried. I didn’t want to take off the headband, because I was afraid people might notice. But I showed a friend and asked her if she could tell I was missing hair (although I didn’t tell her WHY I was), and she said no, and that it looked fine. .
Summer gym went pretty good, although I was depressed during the majority of it. But when people ask, I just say I’m tired.
But the pulling didn’t stop when summer gym stopped. I kept pulling out my hair- sometimes yanking a whole bunch of it at a time, but usually just one hair at a time. I was too depressed to wonder “Why am I pulling out my hair? That’s not normal…” Towards the end of the summer, I had pulled it all out and just had little regrowths. So I grabbed the tweezers, and pulled those too. But then came the hard part: School. My first year at high school, time to make an impression. And I had
no hair. My Mom somehow found a lady who really changed my life, and I think we actually changed hers, too. Her name was Melody Bowman, and she helped people get wigs and styled them. She gave us some pamphlets about trichotillomania. When we first went in, (my Mom and my older sister Emily were with me) something amazing happened. Mel (her nickname) got a box down with a random wig just so she could find the size of my head. It was a wig from Locks of Love, and she’d had it for a long time! Amazingly, it fit me perfectly- and the color was close enough to my own hair color. We all felt it was something God had done. So she trimmed bangs and fixed it up a little, and I went home. I wore it to school every day, although once again I always had to wear a headband or else it looked weird. I guess I was “the headband girl”. But sooner or later we realized it was kind of thin… I had to be real careful to make sure that it didn’t part in the back, or else you could tell it was a wig. When I had to be pulled out of school for my anorexia, we went back to Mel’s. It took a while to get the right wig again. Finally, we got one at a low price (my family can’t afford an expensive wig), from a center who gave really low prices for wigs if they were going to people with trichotillomania. It wasn’t the right color, so at Mel’s hair shop we dyed it. It turned gray! That gave us all a laugh… it still makes me giggle today when I think about it. Eventually though, we got the right color and it was trimmed. It had gone from bright yellowish-orange to gray, and then to a dirty blonde, which wasn’t quite my hair color but close enough. I still wear that hairpiece. I’m so thankful for it. Often I get comments like “Did you dye your hair?” or “Haha, at first I thought it was a wig!” It’s awkward and uncomfortable when I get those comments, but I’ve learned how to respond. I’ve also learned how to tell people I have Trich. Most of my friends know about it now, and I have been amazed each time that they don’t care- I’m still Abby, age 14, (soon to be 15!!!! WHOO HOO!!) hair or no hair. I have good friends.
Sometimes I feel so bad and I just wish that I could go back in time and that my anorexia, depression, ocd, and trichotillomania would never have happened.
But you know what? I would never go back. I’d never do that. I’ve learned so much from all this- I like who I am as a person a lot better. But most importantly, I’ve helped more people through all this than I would have helped if I didn’t have these problems. When I share my story, my friends often tell me a story of their life back- and I can help them with it. And it just feels so good. I still have no hair, but guess what! I haven’t pulled for a WEEK! That is the longest I’ve ever gone. It’s because my Mom took away the tweezers. It’s funny, because in the beginning we had like 3 pairs, but now we only have one. It’s something God did, and He added a little humor. At Mel’s, I dropped a pair I had in my pocket and lost them there. At target, the same thing happened. I know you could say “well that’s just a coincidence, not God’s doing,” but it was. I could feel it. I can still feel God. Without Him, I could never handle all this. He’s using this- I know He is, because I’ve already seen him start to use it. God is my hero. And I’m really excited, because there is hope for getting better from trich. I haven’t pulled for a week, and if I don’t pull again ever, I will have two and a half inches of hair by this August, the beginning of my 10th grade year. My whole ninth grade year I’ve been at home, because things have been going so badly I can’t go to school. I’m so behind, it’s scary. But I’m doing an online school program, and the fact that I will be working on it during the summer doesn’t bother me at all. Because I’ll get to go back to school next year, and be a 10th grader, and I think that once again someday my eyes will shine, and I’ll be stronger than I was before, stronger than I thought I could be, because of all my experiences. And I’ll get to help others.
It’s funny because I used to always draw girls with no hair as well as girls with hair, even when I didn’t know what Trichotillomania was. I drew the girls because some girls just don’t have hair- like from chemo treatment. And I thought I should include girls without hair in my drawings, too. And now… I myself don’t have hair!
I know I didn’t write my story as proper as a teacher or adult would, but I did write it from my heart. Oh, and by the way, have you ever heard the little rap song for gangster that goes like this? “I’m a gangster; I’m a straight up g, the gangster life that’s the life for me.” Well, I made up my own “Trichster” version: “I’m a Trichster, a straight up T, but the Trichster life, ain’t the life for me!” Because it is not. I’m going to get better. And even if I DO end up pulling the rest of my life, that
doesn’t define who I am. I mean, it is important to me because of all I’ve learned and seen, but the life for me and what defines me… is in my heart. <3
Oh, and a shout out to all those other trichsters (WE CAN FIGHT IT!), Charlene Blacer (Thank you!!), who cares enough to write this book for us all, whom I love even though I’ve never met her besides on Facebook, and to YOU! Yes you, you who are reading this right now. Thank you <3 you’re in my prayers, whether I know you or not- and there’s nothing you can do about it ;)
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