Bodies

A couple years ago, I started down a path of living a more natural, eco-friendly lifestyle.

I’ve been on a largely fruitless quest for good hair all my life. I’ve got thin, baby-fine, straight-as-a-nail hair that’s somehow both oily and prone to frizziness at the same time. Years of abusing my hair with heat and dyes didn’t help the state of affairs, either. So when I heard that women were cutting back on or even foregoing shampoo altogether and getting dream-worthy hair, I was game to give the shampoo-free lifestyle a try.

I’m sure you’ll find it a delicious and well-stocked place. There are just a few rules

I was lying on my back in the waiting room, feet propped up on a chair, the ceiling spinning above me - all thanks to my IUD. I had just fainted after getting it inserted.

It’s been seven years since I left him. Most days he doesn’t cross my mind. I forget that he existed. The things that he put me through are filed away somewhere that never gets opened. I’ve done the work of understanding what I went through, of forgiving him for the abuse, of moving on with my life.

I’ve been in treatment, at different times, for mental health issues all my adult life. I’ve been medicated with different drugs in different combinations, and not medicated, all at the behest of well-intentioned doctors and psychiatric professionals. And I was hospitalized in 2013 for a week in the psych ward at the local medical center.

It’s amazing how easy it is to forget about one of the most intense experiences of my life. Sometimes when someone asks about my scar, I have to think for a moment before I can answer, “Oh, that! It’s from my open-heart surgery!”

Two months ago, I filed for disability for unmedicated bipolar disorder. I had spent weeks dangling from tiring hands over a spiky precipice – or so it seemed. There were days of crying at my desk, days of inexplicable panic attacks in the face of a normal workload.