Shaved head

Today, I shaved my head. I had managed to last almost a year with hair, but it has started to recede again. This isn't the first time I have had to shave, yet for some reason this time has been the toughest. UC has robbed me of so much. It took my lively hood, stopped me from being able to work and made rely on state benefits. It robbed me of the ability to breastfeed my children for longer than a few weeks. It has destroyed friendships as people couldn't understand why I kept canceling plans, relationships, taken my confidence, left me feeling worthless and a failure as a mother as a friend and as a contributing member of society. Yet I kept going. Brushed my hair, and soldiered on. Plastered on the smile, built up the walls and told the world that I was fine, over and over agin until I started to believe it, until it started to be true.

Having my colon taken out was strangely liberating. Getting rid of that diseased organ gave me a chance of a fresh start. I embraced my Ostomy as it represented me getting my life back. The problem is, I haven't got my life back. I still have UC. I still bleed from my back passage. I still shit myself. I still have fatigue. I still have pain. I still have days where I feel like I am wading through mud, where everything is a struggle, where getting through the day in one piece, with my children fed and safe feels like a marathon. These days are far fewer than they were before the operation. The difference is 100% better, but my baseline before was minus 10 where  plus 1 is feeling like death and plus 10 is feeling totally healthy, so...... And the guilt. My god the guilt. This surgery was suposed to "cure"me. It was supposed to stop my loved ones from having to see me in pain, having to drop everything to help with the children, stop me from not being able to get out of bed, stop the pain, the bleeding, the accidents, the feelings of self loathing, worthlessness and zero confidence. So I fake it. Again and again. I get up, I get on with it. I put my big girl Ostomy pants on, brush my hair and live my life. I try not to complain, play the "sick card". Except now I have no more hair to brush.