I have new hair, why don’t you go look in the mirror and fix your own. Before you open your mouth and talk about my hair, go and look at yours, and picture it gone. Then, picture somebody giving you a wig, and saying okay no go back to class. How would you deal with it? I don’t mean that in a snotty tone, an honest one. Because I need help. Therapist, therapist, therapist. My deadline is tomorrow. I need to call that therapist. I have been saying this for two weeks now. My computer keyboard and screen don’t talk back. That is one thing I absolutely adore about them. My fingers go on auto pilot and my mind goes numb and I type. I type my inner most thoughts out to the world who will read this. The world who will read this and learn that our society kind of sucks. How we have become, and how hippocrytical we are. People who pretend to understand when they don’t. I wish more honesty was around sometimes. I wish people were more blunt. The wig is a band aid. The wound is still there. Bleach white, smooth. There are some prickly hairs, but come on. And when people say celebrate the small stuff, I know they are so right but how could they preach to me? How could they think they have any right to preach that to me? Sure, when you have a few prickly hairs coming out of your head, I will throw you a huge party with champagne and balloons and a big cake saying “Good for you, your prickles are awesome!” Like no. Please re think things before you speak. Especially, let me repeat, especially re think what you are saying to someone who is more hypersensitive because something life changing is going on. Re think what you would say. But at the same time, It’s like this lose lose battle because my emotions are crazy rollercoasters that cant be predicted. I might take a compliment very well one day, and the next, end up crying in the bathroom stall asking my inevitable Why question. Confession, I have only cried once in the bathroom stall. Aren’t you proud of me? I am proud. Another confession, I ask the inevitable why question a lot. But the thing is I have a few phony answers to it when other people ask. Here they are:
1. It’s autoimmune. This one is great because not a lot of people know what it means, but people have too much pride usually to actually ask you. They just sincerely (but really unsincerely) nod their head, and agree with you. Entertaining.
2. I don’t know. This one is for when I am freaking tired of talking about it. This usually results in an “At-a boy comment” where someone will say, but on the bright side, you have a lovely face, or some quickly thought out phrase. So god forbid there is no awkward silence, which would be the most truthful response I think.
3. It started happening before but now it’s acting up a lot. This answer usually leads to another why question,so I have started to discontinue this answer.
Okay on a side note, I have become a bit more angry in the past few journal entries. I think I should sort out this anger somehow. How?
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