When I was 9 years old my dad died in a car crash. That day my little heart broke. My heart felt like it had been physically ripped from my chest. I was scared that our family would never be happy or safe ever again. I’m the oldest of four kids and I remember at the funeral everyone telling me that I had to look after my mam and siblings now. They were my responsibility. I have always taken responsibility very seriously even as a 9 year old girl. After this traumatic event, I didn’t really talk for a few years. I thought “What’s the point in talking? The only person in all the world I want to talk to is dead.” During this time I also developed Trichotillomania. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Trichotillomania (or Trich) is a form of OCD where a person compulsively pulls out their hair. I’m lucky I have a very mild case, I only pull out my eye lashes and eye brows. When my mam noticed they started to vanish she brought me to our GP. As a small child I was ashamed that I was doing this ‘weird thing’ and didn’t know how to explain it to anyone. The GP didn’t know what it was and he referred me to an optician. The optician examined my eyes and told my mam that I was pulling the hair out. I remember the look of shock on her face when I nodded in agreeing with the optician. In her disbelief she started to cry and she asked why? This is a question that even 20 years later, I still don’t have the answer to but I’m getting there.
I went through all of primary school and secondary school with no eyebrows and no eyelashes. I also had weight problems and was always sad. I believed 100% that I was ugly and stupid. I was bullied and people would call me a ‘weirdo’. I truly felt like a ‘weirdo’. I was suffering from a condition that I didn’t understand and other didn’t either. For years I even went to child psychologists who didn’t know or understand my condition. I felt lost, alone, ugly and started self-harming when I was about 14. Thankfully I got out of that habit after a few years after counselling, focusing on school and making art. Unfortunately my anxiety kept tormenting me and I remember having my first ever anxiety attack during my leaving cert art exam (art was the one thing I was good at!). I sat on the floor of a bathroom cubicle and it felt like a huge hand was around my neck and I couldn’t breathe, my lungs were closing in and I was so scared.
After this, I wanted to get better and I needed to get better. When I started college I decided to go to the student counsellor for my anxiety. She told me that I had form of OCD called Trichotillomania. She also said that other people had it too and that there was a support group in Dublin that helped people with it. For the first time in my life I didn’t feel alone, there were other people who had it and it had a name. It was an actual real thing! After a few sessions she told me that the college had a fund for people with severe mental health issues that couldn’t afford to pay for it themselves. She said that the college could fund 8 sessions of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy that would cost 120 euro a session. I gladly excepted as I was living off my grant, squeezing every penny I had. I only went for 8 weeks but in those weeks I learned so much about myself and most importantly that I am more than just OCD, Anxiety or Depression. It may have taken me 10 years but I finally could move on and get the help that I needed. This was a pivotal moment for me.
Ten years later and I owe so much to that counsellor! Between the Student counsellor and therapist I found a new strength that I didn’t even know I had. Throughout my life I have felt that my anxiety, depression and OCD had taken over my whole body, my mind and my soul. I am now much older now and feel sad that I spent so many years feeling so worthless and lonely. It has taken me many years to finally rebuild my self-confidence and I am now finally believing that I am worth something. It’s been a hard road but I wish I could go back and hug that little girl. She was brave and battled all of that on her own. She was always strong, she just didn’t know it and that strength was beautiful. She was beautiful in her own way, because of her creativity, her bravery and the kindness she showed to other people. That in itself, is true beauty.
Help information
If you need help please talk to friends, family, a GP, therapist or one of the free confidential helpline services. For a full list of national mental health services see yourmentalhealth.ie.
- Samaritans on their free confidential 24/7 helpline on 116-123, by emailing jo@samaritans.ie
- Pieta House National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement) or text HELP to 51444 (standard message rates apply)
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here:
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