Heyyyy there! Good afternoon and Happy Fridaying to you. I hope that you made it through this week gracefully and that you are fully prepared to sit back and relax during this long Labor Day weekend. If no one else deserves a break from the trials and tribulations of life, it's definitely you and me.
Me because my hair is falling out.
Yup. You read that right. My. Hair. Is. Falling. Out. For the past 38 years, I have always had long, luxurious, flowing hair. I could flat iron it and wear it down, well past my shoulders, or I could pull it back into a ponytail. I've been blonde, black, mahogany (or as my favorite high school teacher used to say, "Purple"), brown and blond, red, copper. I've gone through every natural hair color on the planet, and even enjoyed having layers cut into it for a few years. But for the past 6 months or so, my hair has broken off so much that today I just cut all of the damage out.
When I was getting it done, I was big and bold. Even looking in the mirror and loving it. All the way home, taking selfies and admiring my newly-styled reflection in the mirror. But now that I'm home and in the light of my solitude, I think the cut is amazing, but that lady in the mirror? I'm not really sure who she is.
Like I said, my hair has been long my whole life. It was one of the main contributing factors to the level of self-confidence no matter what was going on. As long as I could relax and curl my hair real cute, I could conquer any giant that dared to cross my path. But this lady with the cute cut... I'm not sure what she's capable of.
My daughter passing away, taking the majority shares of my confidence with her. From the moment her heart stopped beating, my feet and my mind have been constantly racing because, if I stopped I could cry. And if I start to cry, I'm not sure when I'll stop.
It's not just the grief that bothers me. Sadness if a familiar feeling for me. But the fact that I really think it's sinking in that I will never see my daughter face again with my Earthly eyes. I must go the rest of my life without ever seeing her face. That doesn't make any sense in my brain. But do you know what does make sense?
Stuff to do.
Shirts to make, meetings to attend, dinners to cook, dates to go on, shifts to work, Projects to launch, friends to laugh with, kids to raise, bills to pay... This is the language that I speak. Because the normal day-to-day tasks of my crazy life take complete focus and leave little time for thinking and analyzing and considering.
Right after my oldest son was born, I had post=partum depression of thee worst possible kind. I felt like I was a dead woman walking. It was a crazy time in my life. I was on medication and even had to be inpatient once so I'm familiar with the symptoms of depression. But I am also well versed in the process of rebuilding myself from the inside out. So I can recognize the symptoms when they are happening.
And I've seen them in the mirror very recently.
This time feels different. This time I don't feel like I'm trying to "get back to normal". I don't feel pressed to return to a past that I no longer fit into. You know why? Because that girl that was sad and depressed and shy and scared all of the time? That's not me anymore.
I'm somebody totally different. This Damn It, Sam is bolder and wiser. She knows that she can trust her instincts and maneuver through tough times. She knows that she can love who she wants but the only person that she needs is herself. She's more familiar with what she likes and doesn't like and she knows what she will tolerate for how long and when it's time to gracefully bow out. She's funny and flirty and confident and willing to try new things. She's everything she wants to be. I can’t wait to hear what she says and she how far she exceeds past all of her goals and dreams...
And she has short hair now...