Hair Today... (Patreon)

I buzzed off all my hair during my final week of the Intensive Outpatient Program at the mental health hospital. By the time it was long enough to need a cut again, quarantine had started. Rather than use my clippers at home, I figured I’d just make my hair growth a game and see how long it got by the time lockdown was lifted. That goal then shifted to waiting until I got vaccinated. So, here we are, 19 months since I’ve had *any* hair modification of any kind.

I genuinely hate the sensation of having hair. Just. Wow. I hate it. I hate the feel of hair on my neck. I hate the weight of my hair pulling my scalp in a bun. I hate how I’m constantly shedding long hairs that get EVERYwhere. I hate all of it.

Oregon just announced that all adults will be eligible for the vaccine on the 18th, though, so... patience.

I see these photos of my hair growth, the ones I took today, and I see my mom in my face. I didn’t recognize her at first when she ambushed me in disguise at a comic con a few years ago— it had been almost a decade since I had cut off contact with her at that point— but she was the first thing I saw when I looked at these pictures taken today.

Two more months until I turn 38, and then it’s just a sneeze until I’m 40. I see where my flesh is starting to settle, I see the map on my face drawn by my mother.

I’m so grateful I’ve had access to the mental health resources that I’ve had. I’m so grateful for the support I’ve had from my community, my loved ones. I’ve seen where a brain like mine can wind up without help. I may have inherited that map but I’m charting a different path.

.....................UHG.

Can I just.

Can I just take some boring-ass hair growth progress pictures and post them on the internet without turning it into a whole thing about my mother???

No, I cannot.

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Adapted from a caption-turned-essay on an Instagram post. I don’t mean to spill my guts! It just happens.