I guess I must confess that I have dropped to my nadir.
There may be a few readers who can empathise with me when I write that self-harming seems to come, hand in glove, with an ED. Indeed, the video also shows it. I have self-harmed, on and off, since 2001. My arms, legs and torso are scarred dreadfully, and summer can be a trial as I attempt to hide the marks with loose, long-sleeved blouses, light cardigans or what have you.
But I have never done this before.
I shaved my hair off.
I felt so disgusting; so ugly; so repulsive and despicable inside that I wanted to show it on the outside, too. I was frantic, manic, inconsolable and mad. It happened in three stages, strangely. I have (had) very, very thick hair. I tried to get Ian's clippers through it. All that happened was that my hair thinned out. I screamed, cried, and got the scissors. And hacked clumps out...and then the clippers did the final work.
I now look like a reject from Auschwitz. Skinny, saggy, shaven and sad.