Hair today, gone tomorrow

I know, this isn’t just about hair. And anyone who is not going through cancer will be quick to say “don’t worry, it’ll grow back” (by the way, please don’t say that to someone). 

It’s about looking at myself in the mirror and not recognizing myself. Seeing my sunken eyes and receding hairline. Floating through the day hungry and tired, willing myself to be normal but wanting to scream and cry instead. 

I get mad. I get sad. Sometimes it’s about food (lately it’s been about food) and sometimes it’s about my hair. And I’m allowed. 

So thanks for letting me vent, because sometimes writing is like screaming and crying into the abyss and helps me feel (just a little) better.