Under a constant spotlight: What it's like living with trichotillomania

Have you ever walked into a room and had everyone turn to look at you? Quickly glancing down to see if you had toilet paper stuck to your shoe? Gently touching your cheek to see if you had something on your face? Everyone was staring and there was nothing you could do. This is what life felt like for me after I developed trichotillomania at 10 years old.

When I was 10 years old I started to pull out my eyebrow hair without being able to stop. Quickly I progressed to pulling out my eyelashes and then hair from my scalp. I was the only person in my corner of the world who had this disorder—the reactions of those around me confirmed it. No one had ever seen this before. It was bizarre.

It felt like a spotlight was shining on me from the moment I stepped out of my bedroom until the moment I stepped back into it.

At home the spotlight came from a place of concern. I can imagine that every time I walked out of my bedroom my family held their breath. Was more hair missing? Was Barbara okay?

No one really knew what triggered my hair pulling so no one really knew what to say to me about it. My parents were urged by therapists to talk with me—hoping I wouldn't get upset and pull more once I got back into my bedroom. It was like walking on eggshells. Sometimes it was easier to just observe. I mean, it was all over my face. It was obvious how I was doing.

At school I tried to put an end to the spotlight by wearing thick headbands, eyebrow pencil, fake glasses, and fake nails. To my dismay, this only amplified the stares and questions. Barbara, why did you draw on your eyebrows? They look weird. You never needed glasses before, why are you wearing them now? Why do you wear a headband every day? Ew.

At my different therapy appointments the spotlight was for record keeping. Oh, and to help me but some of the therapists I visited had no background knowledge of trichotillomania so who was it really helping?

I remember being a participant in a trichotillomania study where they'd take my picture at the end of every session. There was evidence of the spotlight that was following me.

I began wishing I could stay in my bedroom forever. Only in my bedroom did the spotlight turn off.

I drew this during one of my BFRB support groups.