A New Beginning, A Hidden Battle, A Hero in the Making

My daughters love for animation led our college search to a somewhat unlikely destination. Most folks don’t think of animation when they hear Fashion Institute of Technology.  I for one didn’t.  My wife stumbled upon their highly regarded Illustration and Animation programs. After visiting several potential candidates, all close to home considering my daughters apprehension around going away to school, FIT made a lasting impression. Little did we know that their NYC campus would be the battleground for the toughest challenge of her young life: surviving OCD and trichotillomania at F.I.T.

I’ll never forget the moment she read the acceptance email.  She was terrified she wouldn’t get in. Not only does her OCD naturally draw her to worst case scenarios but FIT requires a art portfolio submission to get accepted into your selected major.  She was fearful of having someone critique her art.  After all, art is her happy place.  It’s like mixing business with pleasure. She’s so hypercritical of herself as an amateur artist, never giving herself grace to become a student, learn, make mistakes, before succeeding.  

Imagine the nerves as she opened the email. As she sat next to my wife, I could see her eyes slowly well up with tears.  They were tears of joy!  A feeling that an expert in the field was telling her she was good enough.  It was a moment of validation that led to jubilation.

It felt like everything was falling into place. The excitement of a new chapter—at the one school she’d truly wanted. But as that first day crept closer, the joy and excitement began to fade. Her OCD intensified. Her trichotillomania escalated in scope and severity.

This is the story of how a hero was born.

The Challenges – Surviving OCD and Trichotillomania in the City

It was the middle of August and couple weeks away from the first day.  The pressure of embarking on her college journey pushed her OCD to new heights. Her themes shifted over the 3 years she’d been seeing a therapist.  Up until her high school graduation they were manageable.  She saw graduation as the end of her childhood.  The added stress morphed her themes into ones that were extremely difficult to shake. As a result, she would begin to question her own morality.  

This is common among those who suffer from OCD. Intrusive thoughts exist as a test of their high ethical standards. Their unaware that having such a lofty sense of right and wrong makes intrusive thoughts nearly impossible to shake.  The harder they try to drive them away, the harder they stick.  It’s like the earth’s gravitational pull, increasing it’s vigor as you move further away from the surface.  

Learn about intrusive thoughts/OCD themes at International OCD Foundation website.

Her themes became more worrisome until finally, one theme latched on to her like a leech in the marshlands. It reached a point that her therapist suggested she see a psychiatrist and consider medical treatment.  She was spending almost her entire day in anguish. Her nights in tears. We were fully on board with the approach. Therapy alone was simply no longer enough.  

I was concerned about what would come next. As I mentioned before, this was not my first tussle with mental health. I’d been though more than a few rounds and like her, had to add medication to my therapeutic plan.  The medication can be a lifesaver but it can feel like it’s getting worse before it gets better. They’re slow builders and are carefully increased until finding the right dosage that provides the desired benefit.   

A First Day Full of Angst

The first day of classes was upon us and she would be going through this adjustment period while finding her way as a freshman at FIT.

She’s a commuter, taking the train from Long Island to Penn Station, followed by a short walk to campus. While public transit might be stressful to some, this was actually preferrable for her. Her anxiety began to interfere with her ability and willingness to drive, so taking the train felt like the lesser of two evils. 

Still, the transition got off to a bumpy start.  That morning, she exited Penn Station through a door she didn’t recognize—and panic set in. She called my wife, overwhelmed. She couldn’t follow directions. Couldn’t get her bearings. Asking her to find a police officer for help was like asking her to perform brain surgery. That’s how hard social interaction can feel for someone with extreme anxiety.

Somehow, after twenty chaotic minutes, she found her way to campus. But the day was long. An early train. A full schedule. A late return. By the time we picked her up from the station around 7:30 p.m., she was completely drained.

A Semester of Stress and Survival

As the days of the semester wore on, so did the mental and physical fatigue. She wasn’t sleeping much at all, often falling asleep in class due to pure exhaustion.  Then the texts started.  All day my wife and I would get inundated with messages calling out for help.  Looking for reassurance that she wasn’t loosing her mind.  That she’d be okay. Her OCD had convinced her that the theme she was sparring with was actually the person she really was underneath it all.  In reality, it was the exact opposite but as I mentioned, there’s no reasoning with OCD.  There’s no rationalizing an intrusive thought. Paying it any attention at all, good or bad, is allowing it to drop anchor in the center of your thoughts.

Imagine waging this sort of war with yourself while trying to manage attending a new school, a commute into the big apple, a first voyage into formal art training. Coupled with the adjustments to a new medication and a feeling of hopelessness.  With the day’s seemingly more insurmountable, the trichotillomania nipping at OCD’s heels.  The pulling moved from eyelashes, to eyebrows and finally to the top of her head.  It added a layer of torment that pushed her to her brink.

Surviving OCD and trichotillomania is not for the faint of heart!

My Hero – Taking on OCD, Trichotillomania and F.I.T. (“Fighting Intrusive Thoughts”)

Those long days turned into weeks. The weeks turned into months.  Every corner we turned ended up taking us right back to where we left off.   It was like making nothing but left turns, circling the same neighborhood of intrusive thoughts, and nightly reassurances.  All throughout I kept thinking, what she’s doing is beyond admirable.  Enduring all of this excruciating pain.  Dragging herself through classes. OCD robbing her of her ability to concentrate on her schoolwork.  

One night in a moment of despair. I realized she needed to hear how proud we were of her.  She must think we perceive her as weak.  On the contrary, the strength it takes to push through this at a young age, without the benefit of life experience to lean on, is incredible.  

“The way you’re handling this is remarkable,” I told her. “The OCD and relentless intrusive thoughts swirling through your mind. Somehow, above it all, you’re excelling in your first semester of college and by the way, commuting into the city every single day.”  I had to fight back tears and the lump in my throat before uttering, “you’re my hero.”  

She lifted her head with tears in her eyes as if to say, “how can you possibly think that of me?” I repeated, “you’re my hero.” “Mom and I have never been more proud of you.” 

Courage is described as those who are afraid, but move forward anyway.  This was the definition of courage. Some days were one step forward and three steps back. But she showed up and wasn’t going to let OCD or trichotillomania define her.

She didn’t know it yet but that semester didn’t break her.  It was turning just surviving OCD and trichotillomania into managing it.

Trich’s to “Pulling Through” OCD and Trichotillomania

Although there is no quick fix for any of this, there maybe some “tricks” to surviving OCD and trichotillomania when they’re trying to do their worst to break you. The right support, therapy, doctors to name a few. Perseverance and progress over perfection. There were gradual improvements her therapist could see week by week that she was blind to.  We would take notice of those things too and made her realize they’re worth celebrating.  Any positive that you can take, no matter how insignificant it may seem is a reason to believe.  

To believe better days are ahead. 

To believe and trust the process.  

Most of all, believe in yourself and your ability to endure, overcome and prevail!

She would soon discover this all to be possible. That healing is possible. That strength isn’t the absence of struggle — it’s what grows from it.

It just doesn’t happen as fast as we’d like.

Not for her.

Not for any of us.

Closing Thoughts – Strength in the Struggle

Watching our daughter surviving OCD and trichotillomania while fighting through that first semester at F.I.T. was one of the hardest, most awe-inspiring experiences of our lives. It’s one thing to witness pain, but another to watch someone battle it with grit, grace, and quiet determination. Even when they don’t realize they’re doing it.

She didn’t choose this fight, but she showed up for it every single day. That’s what courage looks like. That’s what being a hero looks like!

To parents who feel helpless, to kids who feel hopeless, to anyone fighting battles that can’t be seen. Whether it’s OCD and trichotillomania, or general anxiety and depression — we see you. Keep going. Keep believing. The strength you’re building now may not be visible today, but one day you’ll look back and see just how far you’ve come.

This isn’t the end of her story — just a chapter.
And what a powerful chapter it was.

Resources for OCD, Anxiety, or Trichotillomania