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Whenever my life feels unstable and chaotic, I shave my head.
It’s one piece of my reality I can always control.
Before I start, if you don’t have space for heaviness then please tap out here…
I am $25 away from shaving my head.
I’m in such deep pain that it takes my breath away.
Earlier I went to the drugstore to buy razor blades and was annoyed that I couldn’t find them in the first aid aisle. It took a minute to remember that people don’t often use them the way that I do.
They shave their legs, they cut their hair…
…I cut myself.
I’ve self-harmed since I was 15, the last time was in April.
Damn. I almost made a year.
But I deserve it.
And it’s not “I deserve to be punished.”
Instead it’s “I deserve relief from the constant pain.”
Every part of me hurts. This is the only way I know how to make it stop.
I sincerely believe any hardship can be faced if you have at least one of the 5 P’s.
People - Your blood or chosen family. The ones who make you feel whole, accepted and seen. The folks who love up on you when you can’t love yourself. Please understand, I have people who love me down. I feel the same way about them. But at the end of the day, there’s no one I can call and say “can we sit together in the quiet, can I lay my head in your lap, can you please hold me?” We need four hugs a day for survival. My last hug was Thanksgiving when a kind friend in Ohio brought me dinner. I am touch starved and desperately lonely.
Person - Your partner (or partners.) I was in a play in High School called the Curious Savage. My character, Mrs. Paddy, hated everything in the world. Each monologue was an extensive list of each specific thing she hated. During the play she bonds with someone - which is unexpected as her hatred extends to people as well. One of my final lines was “I hate everything in the world…I hate everything in the world but, I love you and I wish you wouldn’t leave us.” I want my person. I want someone who I love and who loves me - a person I can face the world with. And while I crave partnership, my teeth (the remaining ones) are in shambles from decades of poverty and I’m too ashamed to date.
Place - Your home or a city, the space where you know you’re meant to be. I’ve never lived in a place where I felt at home. Mexico remains the goal. With that said, I’m painfully aware that anti-Blackness is global. I don’t belong anywhere, I probably never will. I continue to question why I exist.
Passion - What you’re here to do. As for me, who knows. I love writing and creating. But at nearly 50 years old, I’ve yet to figure out how to sustain my life with either. I don’t even mean excessive wealth - I’m talking the basics of life. I’ve been in my new apartment for two months and I have a bed (that was gifted to me) and a card table. For fucks sake Robin, is this the best you can do?
Pet - I’ve often heard people say “my life is trash but thank goodness for my pet because they make it worth it” and, huh. Can’t relate. I’ve had my little old lady cats Nalo and Mila for 10 years. I love them with all my heart. They tolerate me. Then there’s Nico. I adopted him a few years back for emotional support. I requested a little old man dog who wanted to spend his final years curled up in my lap. When I went to visit, he was reserved. They said he was just sad from the recent loss of his owner. They neglected to mention that he was aggressive, unsocialized and would eat your face if you attempted affection. My little guy is more traumatized than I am. He’d probably thrive without me, to be honest.
We each need someone or something in our life that makes the bullshit bearable.
I can’t check any of those boxes. And I’m poor? I can’t even buy comfort.
C’mon, man.
Why in the hell do I fight to stay alive?
But then I think, maybe one day I’ll be ok.
I want to know how that feels…
Maybe I’ll find a way to fix my teeth then I can date and kiss beautiful women. Maybe I’ll even find a partner who wants me.
Maybe one day I’ll have the financial stability to relocate my little family to Mexico and can afford the support Nico needs to live his best carefree life.
Maybe I’ll figure out what purpose my words and creativity have in the world.
Maybe I’ll find the people who light up when I walk in a room.
But I have to stay here to find out.
And right now, the only thing helping me hold on is the pack of razors and butterfly stitches neatly laid out across from me as I write this.
My hope is that I’ll wake up tomorrow and my heart won’t be as heavy. Perhaps I’ll throw everything in the trash and then I’ll be a day closer to my 1 year anniversary.
But if not, that’s ok.
I’ll extend compassion to myself, I’m tryin’ my best with what I have.
I’m unclear how to end this except to ask for what I need.
(I wish I could ask for a hug.)
If you have Community Care to share, I’d be grateful. Rent is due and I have no clue how I’ll pay it.
Venmo: @ divinerobin
CashApp: $divinerobin
PayPal: practicecommunitycare@gmail.com
Robin, why are you like this? Please get your shit together.
I swear I’m trying. I am! But my spirit is weary.
I wanna go home except that place doesn’t exist.
If you have your own need then please make it known to those who love you.
There really are people out there who care. (even about me)
I don’t have any answers or resources at the moment Robin, but I wanted you to know that I see you. You are witnessed while you so bravely allow your pain to be seen. Please stay and find out. Big virtual hugs. I know they aren’t the same. ❤️
Hey girl. I’m sorry you’re in so much pain and I do wish I could give you a hug. But the other thing…even if it’s your catharsis…you look wonderful with your head shaved-not many women can pull that off. Hang in there. (My cousin just moved to Atlanta too, but she’s a b****, so stay away from her racist ass!) 🤪 I hope that made you laugh. 🤗