I know the prompt for this week’s Prose for Thought is “Outdoors” but I have no inspiration on that theme I’m afraid…I did take the photo outdoors though! Instead I want to talk to you about hair, the stuff on your head, and my Borderline Personality Disorder, or my Bipolar, or whatever mental illness is causing this.
I can feel it though it’s tied up. I still know it’s there. I can feel it, the follicles, like an itch, but I don’t want to scratch, I want to pull, to cut, to shave. I want to be rid of it. I need to be rid of it.
It’s there. Even if I don’t look, don’t touch, it’s still there. I want it gone. It needs to be gone.
The length bothers me, it brushes my neck. I know it is there, I can feel it.
I tie it up, I clip up the tiny ponytail I created. It no longer brushes my neck, but I feel it. I know it is there and I hate it, I hate it and I fear it and I am sad about it.
I am drowning in emotions, swirling in them, all the emotions, but for some reason it is my hair, that is where the problem stems from. As if all my emotions are in my hair, as if my hair is causing all the emotions.
I do not know why, I just know it is.
I go to the hairdressers, she cuts my hair, short, like I asked for. I am torn; I want long, beautiful, flowing locks. But I want it gone. It must be gone.
It is gone. I can breathe. I feel in control again, in control of my emotions again, they have eased, back to just mild turmoil.
It is gone. Not all gone, but gone enough for me to be able to control the feelings that wash over me. Gone enough to not feel it like I am in a crisis anymore.