Ugh this fucking hair…

I’m so over head coverings. So. Over. It. BUT my actual hair still looks awful. It’s not filling in as well as I had hoped. My plan was to dye it and clean up the back, but then I really looked at it, and now I’m not sure it’s worth it.

I’m being impatient, I know. Assuming I start Kisqali, then I should keep my hair, and it will hopefully fill in. I’m just so tired of looking like shit all the time. I desperately want the old me back, and I know that’s not in the cards. But at this point, I’d be happy with being chick with extreme pixie cut.

I have all these cute clothes I never wear anymore, because nothing fits right, and I look like shit. I always look pregnant and bloated and swollen and bald and my face looks old and and and and FUCK THIS. I live in leggings and oversized tees. Mostly black. Anything that disguises my figure.

Why do I care so much about this silly shit though? It’s not like when I’m on my death bed, I’ll be thinking about how cute I could have // should have been. I guess I just want to feel normal. Ya know? I’m tired of being terminal cancer lady. I’m tired of LOOKING like her.

I didn’t post about it anywhere, but a second person insinuated I was pregnant during the trip. It was in Sicily at a wine tasting. She basically asked if the baby was enjoying the wine. I was speechless. I don’t think I actually answered her. Like…wtf on so many different levels. I didn’t know where to start, but, of course, it ruined the rest of the excursion. I felt self-conscious the entire time, like I was some alcoholic who drinks while pregnant, and worrying that everyone was judging me. I thought the lack of hair/and my head covering would indicate cancer, but I think most Europeans thought it was a religious thing, which I wasn’t expecting. Here in the US, I feel like people look at me and know I’m sick.

It’s just a lot. I spend most of my days distracting myself so I don’t cry, tbh, but that’s getting more and more difficult.

I think I need to spend more of my free time with people who love me. I’m going to make some plans to see friends. My spirit needs it.

Back in black

Today was cut and color day.

When I went to bed last night, I was like: color only – I’m going to grow this hair out. But this morning I was like: Nah – I want a French bob. And now I have one. I just keep going shorter and shorter, but I feel more like myself than I have in a while.

I’m excited to see what it looks like after I style it myself tomorrow. I don’t like how she flat irons all the life out of my hair.

Oh and I’m so very glad to have my dark hair back. 😍😍

I want a Zoey Deschanel wig. I used to have one, but I think maybe I gave it to Grace when she had chemo? I remember giving her some wigs a couple years back and thinking: you’ll have to buy yourself new ones when the cancer comes back. Because I’ve always known. Always.