Anxiety

So ... I'm an idiot.

Not an actual idiot, but I feel like I am.

I got my hair cut on Thursday, and you have no idea what an achievement that is for me these days.

She fucked up my hair.

I meant to go get it sorted today ... but I can't.

I suck at things like this, like doing mundane things and having people meet their targets at work by being blandly nice to me while providing a service. And even more when they just want to fuck off home but rather than have a conversation where I feel comfortable enough to return the next day when there's time they do a shit job and rush me out, hoping that because there's a curl to my hair I will never notice how uneven the back is. Has she never heard of straighteners?

But I can't just stroll up to a hairdressers, go in and get a cut. That visit took me months of knowing my split ends were bad and having hair so long I had to sleep with it in pigtails and had to move it to the side if I put a hood on; hair so long that once I finished brushing one side, the other would be a knotted mess again. That visit took me a lot of effort fighting weird personal demons I can't even explain and she MADE IT WORSE.

I'm like this about asking for things for me, it takes me ages to ask for favours, or to let people know I'm struggling. It's not because I'm a martyr, I just believe in being fair and I was taught to see other people's views so much that I talk myself out of situations unless they are, in my mind, pressing. So asking for a day off work? Took me a month to plan how to. Asking for a babysitter from my parents? A few days. Having my haircut? Yeah ...

I'm actually really upset about this. I feel like my hair's already so short - I only wanted a few inches off, the front straightened out because my fringe grows longer than the rest, and my hair thinned out because it's so Goddamn thick ... but that was too much.

I went on the shop's website today, but they're an independent one (if you live near me, it's the one in the bus stop. I went because the hairdresser my dad goes to was shut, this is unisex and they give the boy lollipops. He was having his hair cut too. She's left a few strands here and there and was the same hairdresser I had, so clearly on the ball, right?) and only give an address. So strongly worded letter it is then. At least my fingers are forward where I hang back, yes?