There's a person sitting right behind me

And I can feel their eyes piercing through the back of my head

Looking at my scalp

The part with no hair

The part that I was pulling at for two hours last night

Most people just look

And they don't ask any questions

They don't ask me if I am okay

They don't ask me if i need help

People assume that because they have never seen it before that they should keep their mouths shut.

I've been suffering from this disorder for as long as I can remember

The first memory I have is from when I was only five years old,

Pulling and pulling and pulling.

And I've been working on this

I’ve been trying so hard to stop but nothing is working.

I feel so isolated when I am sitting in a classroom full of students.

I feel like there's nobody else there except me...

And my hands and my head

And the only thing I can think of doing is putting my hands in my hair

And pulling and pulling.

And all I can think about all day long is pulling.

And when I have a test all I can think of is pulling...

And I forget the answers

And all I can see is hair.

Hair on the ground,

Hair surrounding me.

Hair has engulfed me in its ways.

Hair has taken over my life.

And I know there are people out there who say

“I am not my disorder”

But i am my disorder. I am.

Trichotillomania: a compulsive desire to pull out one's hair

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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