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Why I Cut My Hair

Writing this post makes me feel like one of those Literature teachers that go waaaay too far into the interpretation of some incidence of pathetic fallacy in a piece of literature. Like yo, Susan? The flowers died because Michelle didn’t water them. Not because she was going through a mid-life crisis and her garden was indicative of her inward struggles. Jeez, get a grip.

For the past week, I’ve been in this really weird place. Describing it would be a total stretch for me but let’s just say that I’ve been doing some intense self-evaluation. And by intense, I mean having a lot of anxious thoughts that would then lead to me having an anxiety attack.

I’ve had three within the last week and that’s literally the first time I’ve ever gotten that many in such a short space of time. That’s when I knew shit has taken a sharp turn. For the worse.

I must say this though. I’m weirdly grateful for going through that really dark depressive week. Because without it, I don’t think my eyes would’ve been opened to certain things in my life that have been simultaneously draining and holding me down unbeknownst to me. Maybe I’ll address those things in detail in another blog post but I wanted to focus on one major things I’ve done to be somewhat of a stepping stone in a new journey (swear I sound like one of those corny motivational speakers).

I cut my hair yesterday.

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To me, my hair became symbolic of all that I was. I’d dye it and do all sorts of different designs to express and portray who I was: a weird chick that totally and unapologetically did not give one, two, nor three fracks (she gave a lot of fracks though, don’t be fooled).

But after my series of self-evaluations, I decided that I needed to reinvent myself… And what better way to symbolize that reinvention than to cut off my hair. In doing so, I was also cutting off negative thinking, doubts, low self-confidence and feelings of unworthiness and the like.

This new journey I’m embarking on, I know that I’m still going to have bad days. My depression isn’t going to go anywhere, but I’m training myself to somewhat control the depressive and anxious spikes that are forever present in my life.

I hope you’re willing to embark on this journey with me too.

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