Then came the exodus at the top of my head. Another couple of hours spent pulling chunks out. I was going to put a photo of that here, but I have totally chickened out. It makes me too upset. I did however accidentally get my sad face in this one when I was trying to take a photo of the side of my head.
This is how I feel right now:
I tried to convince myself that maybe that would be the end of it, as once again, the rest of my head seemed to be keeping a tight grip on the hair. But all hope is going this evening as the hair by my neck has decided it can't be arsed any more and is just going to fuck off too.
Well, it can fuck off. Fuck it, I can't be bothered with the stress of it any more. So I've taken a night / early hours off pulling my hair out, and instead I've been arsing around with the wig.
My mood has improved although only slightly. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Because I truly am very grateful to the, I'm guessing 35-40 women who donated their entire heads of hair to create the biggest, thickest mop on the face of the earth. I'm just not used to it.
There's so much of it! I feel silly. It makes me cringe.
The photo above doesn't do the bouffant justice. Trust me, it's TOO BIG. I can't go out in it!
Having said that, some experimentation tonight has convinced me 100% that headscarves are not my thing. This is the first and last time you'll see me in one:
So for now I am just going to hide in my bed, with my B for Badass Bitch hat on, singing "Unchosen one*" at my hair until I figure out what to do.
* "Give up, giiiiiive up; I wriiite it like a mantra. There's been enough, eeeeenough, hopelessness and banter. I'm not alive to whi-ine, it's an honourrrr juuust to be here, it's an honourrrrr just to beeee here, be here alive"