I have been donating my hair for quite a few years now.

I just did it again for the fourth or fifth time. I can’t remember. I’ll have to look for my little certificates.

I grew my hair for 3 years this time and it was almost at bum level!

People always say that it’s so great that I do this, but really, it’s because I am a lazy ass with a good heart. :p

I hate, hate, hate paying $70 to get my hair trimmed. I can’t be bothered dying it. I do nothing with it in the morning besides wash it … most of the time. It spends its time down until it dries and then up it goes into a ponytail or super messy bun-type thing.

Solution: grow it until I can’t stand it and then chop it all off and donate it! BAM!

This is amazing because:

1. I never have to dye my hair – because you can’t if you want to donate it!
2. I get a hair cut once every two to three YEARS!
3. I help out little kids who need wigs and that actually does make me feel good.

I send my hair to Angel Hair for Kids because they rock.

This is me getting the latest choppy chop!

I grew it extra long this time because last time they had to cut it super short to get the 12″ … I’m talking razor blade short … and the short hairs irritated my neck fat. Never again!

The chop begins!

Almost there!

Ahhh!

Afterwards I carried this around in my bag for a while. Then I started to feel like a serial killer so I got off my ass and packed it up and mailed it off. Which now that I write that down doesn’t sound any less serial killery. I cut all my hair off and mail it to people because I’m a good person!

Wanna touch it?

I can stretch it to 14″, I swear!

There you have it.

If you’re lazy and nice … donate your hair!

I’m hoping to squeeze in one more before I’m too grey to be acceptable.

I was having a loose jeans day on Friday. I was at work and I had to pull my belt to the fourth hole and I thought to myself, Those 4 lunch salads are already paying off!  I’ve probably lost 5 pounds through salads alone! Yay for me!

Cut to Saturday. I’m getting dressed to meet my family for lunch. It’s summer, but I’m putting on jeans because I have amazingly white legs and I haven’t shaved them so jeans are safer. For everyone.

I go to do my belt up and I seem to be able to pull it even further than on Friday. Could this be? Could I finally be losing weight magically with no effort like I always wanted?!

Nope.

I’m still as chubs as I ever was and my belt decided to prove that to me in a decidedly dickbaggish fashion.

Observe!

My belt …

… the dickbag.

I had broken my belt. It was literally hanging on by an effing thread. Okay, two threads, but that’s not much better! What a kick in the vag!

Also, I spent the whole weekend packing, because we’re moving soon, and I didn’t get out to buy a new belt so today is going to consist of me walking around holding my pants up manually. Unless I can find some string, or I tape them to myself somehow.

Balls.

Bright Light! Alien Invasion? Inconsiderate Neighbours?

3/4 Asleep Me: Who is shining a bloody great big stupid light through the window when I’m trying to sleep!?

1/2 Asleep Me: That’s the sun, dumb ass. It’s still light out. We go to bed before the sun goes down. If you listen carefully you can hear children playing outside.

3/4 Asleep Me: Dammit.

1/2 Asleep Me: Just put a stuffed animal over your eyes and go back to sleep.

3/4 Asleep Me: Stupid daylight.

I’ve been doing really well lately.

I changed meds in December and after clawing my way out of that shit storm things have been pretty good.

I’m on a lower dose of the new meds, but if I supplement that with regular exercise I find that it does the trick. If I could just keep up the “regular” part of the exercise thing I’d be golden. 🙂

The problem with depression though is that it never goes away. It waits in the shadows. It’s always there, lurking. Waiting for the chance to get its claws into you again. It’s insidious.

In the quiet times I can sense it.

I’ll be at work and having just completed a successful social interaction with a co-worker I’ll sit back down at my desk, smiling and feeling good. At that moment when my smile starts to fade back into my every day face I’ll hear it.

Demon: I’m still here you know.

Me: I know.

Demon: I’ll find a way back in. When you’re weak.

Me: I know.

I do know. And it’s sad and it’s terrifying. And it’s okay.

I’m writing this from a position of happiness and strength where I can see that darkness and I know that it’s coming but I also know that I’ll get through it.

Next time I’m in the darkness and the demon has me I might need someone to remind me of this. Sometimes when you’re in the grip of depression you have a hard time remembering what it’s like on the other side. So I might need someone to read me this and gently say that it will get better. Because it will.

If you’re in the dark place right now I’m here to tell you that it will get better. You’re important. You’re loved. You’re worth the fight. Don’t give up.

If you feel alone and like no one understands you then the internet is your best friend. There are so many of us on here that have found a place to belong, to feel understood, to speak out about the total assholeyness of depression and to not feel alone. We’re out here! Find us!

The most important thing I have learned from Jenny Lawson is that depression lies. Remember that.

Depression lies and I call bullshit!