CONFRONTING A SECRET HABIT UP TO 3% OF PEOPLE SUFFER DAMAGE OF COMPULSIVE HAIR PULLING.

Byline: Jennifer Radcliffe Staff Writer

Rosalina Castillo cut off her eyelashes with plastic Crayola scissors when she was 7 years old.

Somehow, the childhood antic took on a life of its own. Within a few years, Castillo had pulled out all her eyelashes and some of the hair on her head, leaving quarter-size bald spots where she had twisted and pulled, strand by strand.

Today, the 21-year-old's mostly bald scalp is covered by a black wig - disguising the fact that Castillo is one of millions who suffer from trichotillomania, pronounced trick-o-til-o-may-nee-ah and called ``trich'' for short.

Experts say compulsive hair pulling is one of the most hidden and least discussed psychological disorders. Up to 3 percent of the population pulls noticeable portions of hair from their scalps, eyelashes, eyebrows and elsewhere.

``It's very much a struggle and it's very tough,'' said Karen Pickett, a licensed therapist who works with obsessive-compulsive patients at the OCD Center in Los Angeles. ``The people who suffer from it are wearing the disorder on their face.''

As a young child, Castillo refused to admit that she actually pulled out her own hair - despite her mother's frantic efforts to figure out why her hair was thinning.

``I thought they were going to put me in a mental institution,'' said Castillo, who lives in Riverside and works as a makeup artist in Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley. ``I was scared. I didn't want help from anyone.''

Millions of hair pullers say they feel like they live in an underground world, avoiding wind and rain, which can jostle carefully placed wigs or ruin makeup. While it's classified as an impulse control disorder, there's still little research and tremendous debate about trichotillomania.

Some experts say it is an anxiety-driven activity similar to nail biting. Others say it's similar to an addiction, such as drinking or smoking, and that people are genetically predisposed to becoming hair pullers.

Either way, doctors say the ritual of pulling - which often happens in a trancelike state - relieves stress. About half of hair pullers also methodically bite, chew or play with the pulled hair.

``I think it's a fascinating phenomenon, but I don't know what the answer is,'' Pickett said.

When Castillo was 14 and finally read brochures describing trichotillomania, she was convinced her mother made up the information. No way, she thought, do other people do this.

Researchers say first-time hair pullers are usually between 9 and 12 years old. At least 70 percent are female, and most tend to be self-reliant and high-achieving.

Richard Lieberman, the head of suicide prevention for the Los Angeles Unified School District, said he talks to school counselors about hair pulling and other injurious behaviors.

``It's habitual and ritualistic. Tension builds and it's a way of seeking relief.''

Because hair is so readily accessible, experts say giving up the habit would be like a smoker trying to quit with an unlit cigarette always between his fingers.

While hair pullers are relieved to find out they are not alone, their struggles usually don't end when they find out the disorder has a name. There is no known cure and quitting is difficult.

Being a hair puller changed the course of 29-year-old Mandi Line's life. The Simi Valley native and former homecoming queen said she could not pursue a modeling career because of her thinning hair.

To disguise the problem, she now wears cotton candy-color pink and blue hair extensions.

``I'm so normal, but people think I'm hard and edgy,'' said Line, a stylist for music videos and television shows.

Line tries to pull her hair only one week a month, and says she's not going to beat herself up if she never quits.

``It's freakin' hair,'' she said. ``It's the cycle of it that's so tormenting.''

Marie, a 32-year-old from Los Angeles who asked that her full name not be used, has been trying to quit pulling her lashes and hair for more than two decades. She's been to hundreds of therapy sessions and tried a variety of prescription medications. She's kept journals, hidden her tweezers and worn rubber bands on her wrists to remind her not to pull.

``I've made a huge investment financially and timewise in trying to get over this,'' she said. ``I'll die trying. It's very frustrating. Nobody's doing it to me. I'm doing it to myself.''

Claudia Miles, a recovered hair puller and therapist in Marin County, said she treats students, professors, attorneys and artists with the disorder.

``Pulling is feeling like you have a really bad itch physically and you have to scratch it. There is a sensation when the hair comes out of the root that is pleasurable.''

Jennifer Radcliffe, [phone]

jennifer.radcliffe(at)dailynews.com

CAPTION(S):

3 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) - Rosalina Castillo

(2 -- color) Rosalina Castillo, who works as a makeup artist in Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley, wears a dark wig to hide the damage done by extensive hair pulling.

(3 -- color) Mandi Line, 29, a stylist and former homecoming queen, compulsively pulls her hair, but hides the damage with pink and blue hair extensions.

Tina Burch/Staff Photographer