The addiction unfolds (Part II)

This is a follow up to my post regarding my secret addiction to pulling my hair.  I last left off about attending meetings with others diagnosed with Alopecia.  I wonder now if there were others there like me that were secretly pulling it out, rather than helplessly watching it fall out.

Well, I stopped attending the meetings at some point; I really don't remember when.  What I do remember is what it was like to wear a wig in middle school.  First of all, they didn't make wigs for kids at that time.  I had to by a petite woman's wig, and sometimes have it sown a bit to fit.  But, that wasn't the worst part.  I had extremely fine hair as a child.  I remember barretts would just slide out of my hair when I was little.  Because the wigs were adult, and it was the 80's when big hair was the in style, I was stuck with big hair (see photo above!).  I looked ridiculous with all that hair!  Boy cuts weren't popular either, so I couldn't even get a short one!  I was teased relentlously.  I even had one girl try to pull my wig off on the playground at recess in front of everyone.  BUT, this is not all bad.  I met my very best friend (to this day!) in the 6th grade.  I gained a large group of very supportive friends. I remember my later years of middle school fondly.

I think because of the friendships I formed, I was less stressed and I pulled my hair much less.  My hair began to grow out and I stopped wearing a wig in 7th grade.  It wouldn't be until just after my 2nd year in college that my pulling would resume in full force.

I got a really steady boyfriend my freshman year in college.  He lived about 8 hours from me and we saw eachother as much as we could.  I was sure this was who I was going to marry, and he felt the same way.  The 2nd year of college, things started to change. He was older than me and started hanging out and going to the bar instead of staying home to talk to me.  And of course I did the best possible thing, I got jealous.  I questioned him about who he was with, I became moody and angry alot.  I even met him with some friends in the summer to go river tubing and I was a complete b*tch.  I didn't know these people and I was jealous of how well they knew him.  My pulling started to get bad again.  I started wearing hats and scarves to cover a bald spot on the back of my head.

Of course, you can guess what happened next, he broke it off. I was devasted, but looking back, I know God was gently showing me the right way. It just really sucked at the time.  I went into a deep depression, and started seeing a therapist. I never said a word the first visit.  I couldn't do anything but shake my head because I was crying so much. I called in sick to work.  I stayed in bed for days.  BUT, in my second session, I admitted that I pulled my hair.  I came clean to my parents as well.  I talked to a few friends.  I felt better. 

And then came the prescription drugs.  The pyschologist said I had an obsessive-compulsive disorder and put me on a strong medication.  By this time I was back to school for my junior year.  The medicine made me feel awful.  First, I felt totally brainless.  I was in a cloud.  Then, I couldn't stop crying.  My depression got worse.  My mom's a nurse and so she encouraged me to call my Dr. because this wasn't normal.  I called, crying my eyes out, asking to get something different.  He said that I hadn't been taking it long enough to know what I was experiencing was from the drug. I was hysterical.  I yelled on the phone, I cried some more.  I said I was missing classess and I was concerned I would fail.  He still refused to take me off because he was sure it wasn't the medicine. My mom was pissed.  With her help, I went off anyway and switched pyschologists.  Thank God for my mom, because I'm not sure I would have done it without her.  This was the first time I would learn how sensitive I am to medications--even over-the-counter!

It's now been months, I am now balding, and I'm starting to pull my eyelashes and eyebrows as well.  Therapy and medications make me feel better inside, but I can't quite quit pulling my hair.  Then, I rekindle an old flame, meet some new friends, move out of my mom's house and have an all out great time the middle of my junior year.  I partied A LOT.  We had parties at our place, we went to parties, we went to clubs.  I had my first experience with marijuana (yes, I inhaled!).  My hair pulling stays, but not as much.  And about this time is when I meet The Beast.