I Pulled Out All My Hair
I pulled out all my hair.
I feel ugly, ashamed, hopeless, disappointed, scared, worried , did I mention ugly?
Trichotillomania. That’s the clinical name. It’s classified under Obsessive-Compulsive and Related Disorders in the DSM-5. On paper it sounds sterile, but living with it feels like a war against your own hands, a cycle of destruction and shame.
It’s more common than people think. About 1–2% of the U.S. population struggles with trichotillomania, though some studies suggest it could be as high as 3–4% because so many suffer in silence. The average age of onset is 10 to 13 years old, and women account for 75–90% of reported cases. That means millions of us are walking around hiding behind makeup, false lashes, covering wounds no one sees.
It’s considered one of the most difficult mental health conditions to treat. There is no FDA-approved medication specifically for trichotillomania. Antidepressants and antipsychotics have been tried, but success rates are inconsistent. Habit Reversal Training (HRT) and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) are the most effective treatments currently known, sometimes combined with acceptance and mindfulness strategies. Still, relapse is common. Studies show that many people relapse within weeks or months, even after successful treatment.
That’s what it feels like: relapse. Like being a drug addict. You get “clean,” stop pulling, grow your hair back, and people finally stop staring. Then one stressful night, one assignment, one anxious thought, and it’s gone again, lashes, brows, self-worth, confidence.
I’ve lived with this since I was 7 years old. Sixteen years. My story started in trauma. I watched my mom get abused by a man who claimed to love her. I watched him try to kill her. I ran screaming down the street calling for help, begging the cops to come. My fear had nowhere to go. Earlier that year, girls in the bathroom had told me that when an eyelash falls out, you can make a wish. So I wished. And wished. And wished. On lashes I ripped out myself, because I wanted peace so badly.
The abuse didn’t stop. He came back. And I kept pulling. He even had the audacity to comment on my missing lashes, as though he wasn’t the reason they were gone. CPS got involved. Therapy was mandated. But the therapy wasn’t for me. It wasn’t about my pain or coping. No one explained what I had. I was just a scared child clinging to the only relief I knew.
School was hell. Kids aren’t kind to the girl with no lashes or brows. The bullying followed me through third grade, fourth grade, middle school, high school. I tried to hide behind dipbrow and falsies, but even when people stopped talking about it, I could see it in their eyes: What’s wrong with her face?
Now I’m an adult, and it still haunts me. I’ve noticed I can stop when I’m on semester break, but the second school assignments pile up, it comes back. Stress has always been my trigger. Always.
And I ask myself, did I deserve the shame? Did I deserve the looks, the comments, the mocking? Did I deserve to be punished for coping with trauma the only way my 7-year-old self knew how?
The truth is, trichotillomania provides relief in the moment. Like food. Like alcohol. Like drugs. Like sex. The chemical release is real. Pulling activates the brain’s reward system, giving a rush of relief or satisfaction. That’s why experts often compare it to an addiction. But the aftermath is devastating. I wake up every day avoiding mirrors, hating my reflection, hiding from the people I love, ashamed of my own hands.
And here’s the hardest part: people don’t understand. They tell me “just stop.” But studies show that the average person with trichotillomania spends 1–3 hours a day pulling or resisting the urge to pull. It’s not a silly little quirk. It’s not vanity. It’s a serious mental health condition.
There are treatments, HRT, CBT, therapy groups, even newer methods like ComB (Comprehensive Behavioral Treatment) and mindfulness practices. There are support organizations like the TLC Foundation for Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors, which connect people like me with community and resources. Some people have success with apps, support groups, or even wearable devices that vibrate when your hand moves to your face. But for many of us, recovery is a lifelong fight.
All I want is to be loved fully, whether I have brows and lashes or not. To not feel like I’m only worthy of love when I’m “clean.” To not feel like my worth lives and dies in the cycle of pulling and hiding.
Because trichotillomania is not a choice. It’s not craziness. It’s not weakness. It’s the scar tissue of trauma, wired deep in my brain. It’s the war I fight every day. And I am tired of fighting it alone.
Things I have tried:
mindfulness
glasses
bandaids
vasaline - a nightmare
sitting on my hands
jalepeno juice on my hands
therapy
NAC
Lexapro
deep breathing
journaling
reset counters
jars with marbles
rewarding myself
gloves
lash serums
habitware bands that vibrate
exercise
HRT - the most effective at getting me restarted but stress wins
The only thing that truly helps, is having an accountability partner. One that doesnt shame or make a deal of it but someone who is gentle and supports you.
I pulled today. I pray I go tomorrow pull free so I can feel free.
<3
