I have stopped kidding myself now that it is a “30 Day Writing Challenge”, so let’s just call it “30 Writing Prompts Challenge”. Four months in and I am on (day) eight. Laughable I know.
Anyway! For this challenge, I went on my favourite songs of all time playlist and put it on shuffle, the first song to come up was “Calling All Skeletons” by Alkaline Trio – an absolute tune. As soon as I heard the first line, I knew what I had to write about. I have previously attempted to do blog posts about this and never really found a way to write about it because it’s so personal. Recently I have been listening to a lot of rap music, which is why I ended up writing a poem of some description? When I was writing it there was definitely some kind of flow there . . . Don’t think I will be the next Eminem any time soon though.
To give you an idea, I have alopecia areata, which is an autoimmune disease where your hair falls out in clumps for reasons that we are unsure of. It can progress into alopecia totallis (total loss of hair on the head and often face), alopecia universalis (total loss of hair across the entire body) or it could just grow back on its own. There is no cure and the treatments that are available to help the hair regrow are often unsuccessful. I first got alopecia around three years ago and I lost a lot of hair on my head, I thought I was going to lose it all, but I was lucky enough for it to grow back. However, towards the end of last year, the alopecia returned. For the most part, I am capable of ignoring the fact that I have it because this time it is much less severe, more importantly, I realise that it has no significant impact on my life. There are times still, where it does get me down, they just don’t consume me like they used to.
Here’s a little poem about it anyway!
“Put your playlist on shuffle, write something using the first phrase of that song.”
Here it is again yet it stings like the first time,
I thought I’d be ready and I thought I had a stronger mind,
I watch my hair go down the drain and I can’t help but cry,
And when I look in the mirror I see someone that I don’t recognise.
My eyelids tingle as I go to wipe away the tears,
When I pull my hand away my eyelashes disappear,
There’s a chance it could grow back, give it a year,
Or it could all fall out, learn to live with the fear.
I get injections in my head, a topical steroid before bed,
It makes your scalp burn and you want to peel your skin off instead.
I reached a low point, where I ignorantly said,
“If I lose all of my hair, then I’d want to be dead”.
One day I’ll be on my deathbed wishing that I had done more,
And what would be the thing that I wasn’t living my life for?
Because my hair fell out and they couldn’t find a cure,
Ask myself, when did my hair ever actually help me before?
Will my hair help me pass the tests and get me a degree?
I need to use my brain in order to succeed,
Start living my life for who I am, put aside my vanity,
Because what’s outside doesn’t matter it’s about who I want to be.
It’s a disease but the symptoms are purely cosmetic,
I need to learn to ignore those with a dumb perspective,
I won’t let it take over me just because it’s in my genetics,
And to let it have any hold on my life would be fucking pathetic.
Beauty isn’t found in clip-ins, uncomfortable wigs,
How big my eyebrows can get, false eyelashes, fake lips,
It’s all about being proud to be different,
Embrace the fact that I have always been a misfit.
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