When I first started pulling out my eyebrows at 10 years old the only thing I wanted to do was stop. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I hated what I was doing. It was like I had no control over my own body. My hands especially, had a mind of their own, finding the perfect hairs without me realizing and rubbing the root across my lips. Over and over and over again. Bald spots were forming. I was sucked into the trichotillomania trance for hours each day. Leaving my room more hairless than just moments before. All I wanted to do was STOP and guess what? I couldn't.
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