The Update Post.

I haven't posted about my trichotillomania in quite some time. In fact, the last time was in May when I mentioned I had just gone through a bad episode of pulling. I was struggling with the pulling of my eyelashes and eyebrows.

I was embarrassed, and I was determined to make a change.

If you've ever seen my old pictures,  you've seen... I had no eyelashes or eyebrows. There have been times when I have had absolutely none at all. For a person who used to get most compliments about my eyes, hurting myself by ruining my best feature really tore me apart. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to stop, and I lost touch with myself. This is something I've been dealing with since I was 16, and this last May—something broke free within me.

Since that last post in May, not only have things changed, but life is different. In every way. I wouldn't say I'm completely "cured" from my trich. Not my any means. But it doesn't haunt me the way it used to.

I get emails on a daily basis that ask, "What is your treatment? How do you do it?" My answer has one response. Prayer.

See, I've tried every remedy in the book. Counseling. Anti-depressants (several kinds). Psychiatry. Hypnosis. Acupuncture. Exercise. Wearing gloves at night so I don't pull. Nothing seemed to do it. So I turned to the one place where I wasn't in charge. I began to pray.

In September, though I still dealt minimally with the pulling, I had a life-changing experience at our church's Encounter. There was a period of anointing, and a healing tunnel. I went through that tunnel of outstretched hands. I sobbed. I lifted my own hands and cried out, asking for forgiveness, healing, and peace. I let everything out that was bottled up inside of me, and gave myself over to Him.

It's amazing what can happen when you let go.

I still have the occasional urge to pull, but it's not anything like it used to be. I don't sit in front of the mirror for hours every night, analyzing each remaining hair. I don't watch TV with my hands glued to my face, tugging and ripping apart my eyebrows. To be honest, I don't even really think about it anymore.

And this isn't something that I did. I could not have done this alone.

I've been putting off writing this post, in fear that some of you would turn your backs on me. In fact, almost every time I write a faith-based post, followers scatter. Criticism rises. I become a target. But then I realized, why am I scared to tell you the truth? I am not embarrassed. I am free.  And for those of you who are my brothers and sisters in Him, you will always stand beside me, and I thank you so much for that.

No matter what your disorder, insecurity or faults may be, know this—you are always loved. And you know what else? You can make a change. Life is too short to suffer. Embrace your mess. Say a prayer. Set yourself free... make that change.   

Mark 5:34 "He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.'"