This is where I rot - 5.10.2025

These are the bits of me I don’t say out loud. Some of them make no sense. Also TW

I planned to be fine and not return, but here we go. Before I jump into this monologue of self-hate, let me just tell one thing, I know it could be worse. I know it could get MUCH worse. At this point, I am so used to the worst that can't break me now. I am getting soo fucking upset over NOTHING, like literal nothing, that I am crying like a fucking kid.

Sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight. Or don't, you do you boo.
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Let's skip to yesterday. At school, my classmate (shocking, I am a uni student while having a full-time job), brought me some foam-rollers for my hair. I usually talk about how I want to have curly hair. I can't have a perm since my hair is bleached, so this is the closest I will get to curly hair. I was over the moon.

Is this now the time that maybe I will fucking love myself again? Maybe I will look "hot"? Maybe someone will notice the change? I sprinted/drove home from school. Ate, showered, and went to town with those curling rods. I even watched a YouTube tutorial on how to do it. I did not expect perfect curls for the first time. But at least some waves.

So Echo is happy as fuck, listening to random jazz music. Bitch, me, jazz. That is strangely happy. For the past month, I kinda felt a little prettier, you know. I went to a cosmetologist a couple of times, and asked her to make me pretty, you know. Like how Julia Roberts went from a whore to a wife. That is what I planned. Go from ugly Betty to a mediocre Betty.

So all curlers in my head, I pour a glass of wine, dance in the living room, and decide to light the furnace. OMG, this looks like a movie, just like a movie. FUCK MAYBE THIS IS IT, this is the part of the movie of my life where I glow the fuck up, get pretty and I do a duet with Barbara Streisand.

Anyways, I go to sleep falling the fuck asleep on a random movie on the cable. You know, I was having a beauty sleep if you will. I had a strange dream, IDK what it was about, but I know it was strange.

So I wake up in the morning, but decide to toss and turn in bed for a while. I do my thing in the morning, walk to the bathroom mirror, and start taking out my rollers. Fuck it is actually curly. Like you know, I was waiting to have a slight wave in my hair, but it was curly. Upon taking out all the curlers, it was clumped all together. According to YouTube, that is normal. I did the thing I was not supposed to be. I combed it. It has volume, it had shine, but it was slowly becoming afro. I tried to save it, but it was already over the top.

I went over to see my parents; they were the first to mock me. "You look like you have a bird's nest over your head". Fuck you... I already have 0 self-worth. I knew it did not look pretty, but I imagined my mother would volunteer to help save it. Well, I did not get that. I just stormed off and left to cry in my car. You know, if it were a situation with my ex-husband, I would await to mock me. That is how he communicated. He mocked everything, but deep down under all that mockery, he cared. You know. If he were to say I look like I have a turd over my head, I would have expected that, but not from these fuckers.

Anyway, after crying for a while, I went to see my cousin and asked her to save my hair. She got her curling iron and went to town. It got worse. You know a woman knows how to curl their own hair, but not how I want to see my hair. I planned to look pretty, and not how Beethoven's lesbian granddaughter would look.

I just slapped on a baseball cap and went home to sit in my garden. This was like 2 hours ago. I was smoking like a chimney in stress and weeping like a kid. This could be worse, I know. I could be terminally ill, I could live my last day right now. But I just wanted to feel pretty. Yes, I am aware it was not looking great, but you could have just told me it is not the best, and told me how to make it better.

So while sitting in my garden and drinking wine, I listened to, you guessed it right, ADELE. I know if she saw this, how people reacted, she would just wet my hair, and get a flat iron to make my hair look like it was before, and help me clear up this mess I made. Why don't I have a person like Adele in my life? Where is that person?

So after a mini mental breakdown, I just stood up, went to the bathroom, and had my own moment. I shaved my head. You know, to me, my hair is my blankie. You know how kids have their teddy bear or favorite blankets, to my that is my hair... My hair has been through it all with me. The first time someone grabbed it to pull me in for a kiss. To me it held memories I may no longer remember. When I was old enough, I remember I started to experiment with different haircuts, it was not just the boring bowl haircut, but a mohawk, full blonde, red, green, blue, classic, long, man-bun, short. It was always a way to express who I am, and how I am feeling.

I fucking regret what I did, but right now it felt too much. I need to get rid of it, however, now I have no shield on my head. The shield that protected me from everything in the past is now on the bathroom floor, about to be picked up by the roomba scouting the house.

I just wanted to feel pretty, now I am just plain up ugly. I did not plan this. Now only Adele is blasting in the background as I mix tequila with wine.

I am someone who likes to scout for hope when there is nothing else to cling to. First, it was the date with the crush that failed. Now it was curly hair. Now my hair is gone. I don't feel remotely like myself at all. Everything that made me, me, is now gone. There was a little spark still burning inside of me, but now it is gone, fully gone. All that is left for me is to rot.

Where are the people I have taken care of when they have hit the ground? Where are they? I desperately just want to talk with someone, let my emotions out. Like pull the fucking plug on the ocean of emotions I am feeling, and let it all out. Bitch, with most of you all, I was sooo fucking low, I cried on my way to help you, and still picked you the fuck up. Where the fuck are you all now? I literally shaved my head from the stress I am locking inside of myself.


In the morning, I was fully fucking fine, I was even like, fuck, my biceps are more defined from dropping all that weight. Yes there is still some belly fat, but I can drop it.

Now I am eating a fucking full tub of ice cream and drinking. To be loved is blasting on the speakers. I don't give a fuck about my neighbors. You know the meme "two shots of vodka". Yeah, that is happening right now.

Okay, you know how fucked up I am, I just put on some gospel. Oh honey, when you hear gospel from my car or from my house, you know I am fucked up.

Makes me feel like I am in the movie "Last Holiday". Lord, why me? I don't go to church, but if I were in a gospel church, I would be in a trance right now. I would just drop my whole goddamn wallet in that basket, waiting for a miracle to happen. during the end of the gospel scene you see Georgia Byrd collapse to the benches, or lean on them, she gets up, does a few dancy-dance moves, and then leaves. Yea that is where I am right now. But not on my way to Karlovy Vary, but downhill to a full fucking mental breakdown.

A couple of months ago, I was planning my wedding, then divorced/broke up. Now I just fucking shaved my head.

Why am I so fucking sensitive? I did not plan this....

Echo out.