Watching my hair abandon me put me in a dark place.
Those around me, despite the fact that they have been there for me, didn’t quite understand why this was affecting me so brutally.
I was in cr. Then again, I went to therapy for a year and began taking antidepressants. I’d sob in my husband’s arms and talk about my hair constantly and obsessively. Keep reading! Like me, for a long time.
Women across the country and across the globe who, are struggling to conceal their hair loss and handle the deep emotional ll it needs. My maternal aunt had very little hair on the p of her head, classic female pattern baldness. My father and brother have varying degrees of hair loss and my mother always had fine hair. I’ve had to face the truth, right after exhausting my options.
Our stories had commonalities.
It robbed us of joy.
In public, we studied other women, envious of the hair that they take for granted. Essentially, I seek for to die, one woman wrote. We withdrew. Losing our hair made us feel unattractive, unworthy, less womanly. Whenever coping mechanisms, hair pieces, the numbers of hairs that fall out and where we lauded considerate doctors and condemned dismissive ones, we met on the Women’s Hair Loss Project, an online support network where we traded information about treatment options. I am loath to give this any more power. I no longer cry about my hair loss. I have transitioned from hysteria to detachment. Notice that somehow what’s happening makes me feel less than the person I used to be, I shouldn’t be ashamed.
It’s part of who I am. I know I’m making progress. Still, I’m quite sure I worry about others noticing my hair loss, about what my head will look like tomorrow, next week, next year. Amid the first things in my opinion about is what my hair will look like by hereafter, when I commit to a social engagement months away. My hair is still falling out. Nevertheless, I know I have done everything in my power to remedy it, it still makes me sad. Actually, lately it seems to have increased. It’s time to stop fighting and to accept the cards I was dealt. I am beyond grateful to her. Known whenever blowing it out with a big brush, my hairdresser styles my hair frequently. That’s interesting. I had my hair cut shorter to make it appear thicker. I do what I can to hide what really is happening. I part it a certain way. What consequently?