I'm losing my hair on Tuesday.
Up until now the whole thing has seemed literally unreal. I haven't really accepted I've got it. I'm 3 chemo sessions in and don't feel that bad. Constantly a little nauseous. Achey on a Wednesday. Lots of random crying. But still going to the pub, and shagging (when not poisonous) and having a laugh.
Now my hair is going. I haven't even had any clumps yet. But I will, soon. Probably. There's not going to be a good time to do it and I've made up my mind. A friend's doing it for me. Luckily I'm fairly punk, fairly butch, and queer. I'll keep a little strip of number 2 for as long as I can and dye it funky colours.
My best mate is a bloke. He gets that I'm sad, but can't empathise at all, because it's not possible. It's not the same thing. Talking to him about it just makes me mad, and I wish it didn't. He means so well.
Everyone around me has been amazing, including my partner. This feels so personal though. Nothing anyone is saying is making me feel any better about it.
There's no point to this post, and the world's asleep, but if anyone is up I could use a handhold.