The Angel Within Herself

The Crisis.

As the summer went by, my parents noticed that my hair was falling more and more, and so did I. It was very painful to watch chunks of my hair fall out every day and I had to start wearing headbands to cover up the large spaces in my head with no hair. As my disease got worse so did the treatments: I had to start doing injections on the head that were painful. I told my parents I wanted to stop, but they wouldn't let me so instead of stopping we changed into air pressure guns which injected the treatment into my skin. With each treatment I lost hope that it would get better, because it never did. With each treatment I felt worse because every time I ended one session I would pass out or vomit several times, and one day I understood why.

One day in the middle of the treatment the lady told me I had to turn around in the table I was laid on, because I now also had large spots in the back of my head with no hair, and as I did I saw a large stain of my blood on the pillow. I need to remind you that I was only 11 years old when this happened and it traumatized me so much that to this day I cannot see a needle going near me without passing out or having and anxiety attack.

I then decided I would stop the treatments and made my parents promise I would take a break, since I have been trying different treatments since I was 4yo, so instead of the treatments I did a 2 month diet with no gluten to see if it helped. It was also on that day when my father got sent away for another mission.

In the meantime, it was now the first week of September and our last week in Algarve. The moment I stopped doing the treatments my hair got thinner, I lost my curls and my eyebrows were starting to disappear. I was trying to hold on to my hair as much as I could but I got more desperate by the day and I knew it hurt my mom to see me like this, so one day my aunt came into the room and made me a proposition: she would make a braid out of my remaining hair and cut it of so I could shave my head. It took me some time to get used to the idea but the support that my family gave me made me accept her proposition and I shaved my head.

I didn't regret it at first, I actually felt more free and the struggle inside me seemed to have disappeared, but that all changed the first time I went out with my family.

We were at the mall to do some last minute shopping and see a movie, and as I walked around with my cousin I noticed a lot of people looking at me, looking at the scarf I had in my head. Suddenly a kid passed by in is dad's shoulder's and decided to grab my scarf and take it away with him. Everyone started to whisper to one another and some kids actually laughed an I never felt so small and ashamed in my entire life. I ran away crying hysterically and I ran to the bathroom of the mall, throwing up and having my very first anxiety attack. My cousin and my mom ended up finding my sitting in the corner of the stall with my tear streaked face and red puffy eyes, my mom immediately hugging as be kissing me while pulling my scarf out of her bag and rapping it around my head. My cousin also hugged me and told me I was beautiful with our without hair, my mom then took her makeup bag out and covered my red spots in my face and told me I looked like an angel and I shouldn't make a big deal out of what other people said about me.

That was the first time I felt like I was not like everyone else and it wouldn't be the last.

It was on that day that I really started to "mourn" the loss of my hair and realised how much I missed it and how much I didn't feel nor see myself as myself anymore.