It started with a hair cut. I was sitting in the chair waiting. My nerves were rising, what would I say, what did I want done, did I even care? Furtively I reach into my purse, pull out a diazepam, swallow it. It will all be fine. I make conversation. As it progresses, the lies flow more smoothly, my fluency surprises even me. I’m a student nurse. Yes, I enjoy it although it’s hard work. I’m back at home now because we have strange holidays. No, of course I don’t mind you asking. I’m not nervous, just tired; we work long shifts you see. I agree, 12 hours shifts are insane.
I look up and I see me transformed. My face lifted, I look alive. Is that a sparkle in my eyes? What this hair cut needs is a new outfit. Let’s go shopping. I need these clothes, I deserve them. I have lovely curves, I should exploit them. I look incredible, I am unstoppable. Yes, I need that top, it can go on the credit card. It will all be worth it when I go home and throw the things away in my wardrobe that have been there more than 10yrs. New look, new me. I have plans. I don’t need time off. When I get home, I will get a job. Who wouldn’t employ me? I’m intelligent, witty and erudite. Just try and stop me!
Of course, by the evening the lovely curves have become grotesque rolls of fat. The new clothes have bulges that weren’t there before, and should be a different size by at least 3mm, as if that would make me worthy. Maybe I should have tried a different size? Who would look at me anyway, does it even matter when I don’t deserve to leave the house. Who would employ me? I’m a freak, a failure. How will I pay the bills? The clothes may have been in the sale but I don’t need them. It’s a mess, I’m a mess.
But at least I still like the hair 🙂