This week I took a shower and nothing was the same. I woke up the same, picked out my clothes the same, turned on the water the same, undressed the same, and got in the shower the same. I washed my body the same. I washed my hair the same. Then I rinsed, and it was different. As my fingers made their way through the soapy tangles, they were unable to escape it. My hair, pulled away with them and I saw my first chunk of hair hit the floor of the shower. Vigorously I ran my fingers through my hair trying to decipher if this was really happening and trying to make it stop but it didn't stop. My mom said you couldn't even tell that any had fallen out because my hair was so thick. The morning after that I woke up around four after an awful night of little rest and began viciously running my fingers through my hair until my handle was full of strands each time. I created a pile on my bed and it looked like a small animal. My plane was to do this until I got the very last strand but no matter how much I did this there was still too much hair. So when the sun rose I went into the bathroom and began to run my fingers through it again. You could tell now, my hair was very thin and pathetic and again, although there was barely anything left on my head I still couldn't get it all off by my hands. So I got a pair of scissor and cut it as short as I could. There were patches everywhere and I looked like an aging man. My mom laughed. Then she cried. It was a reality we both weren't ready to face. One of the child life specialist came and shaved the rest off for me and there I was, a smooth bald head. I didn't know what to think or say, I wasn't bothered but I wasn't happy. I didn't cry and I don't know if that's because of my antidepressant or if I truly accepted it. I think I just accepted it, I really didn't look that bad. The chubby cheeks from the steroids is what makes the bald so bad. If that wasn't there I would be 100% okay. So anyway, this week I took a shower, and nothing was the same.
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April 2017
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