“If you worry about something and it happens, then you’ve only lived it twice.” Michael J. Fox said that. That’s not a direct quote, but that’s the gist. Worrying is stupid. Worrying keeps you from getting out of bed in the morning because the moment you wake up your brain trolls your ass and bombards you with all of the illegitimate things that could possibly go wrong over the course you your day. In my experience, worrying is the fucking worst. The shittiest part of it is that I always know that I’m being stupid when I get all worked up about these imaginary issues that my brain decides are worth fussing over. My brain sucks. If you’re looking to trade with me, please feel free to hit me up! I’ll pay you to take ‘er off my hands! (No refunds).
The stupidest thing that I worry about is losing my hair. I’m just your friendly, neighborhood dudebro with a kill head of lettuce. I do not want to lose my lettuce. I’ve shaved my head before and my head has more dents in it than a repossessed school bus. And it looks like Dr. Frankenstein started building me a head, but then his clumsy ass dropped that shit down an abandoned mine shaft. I don’t know what is up with my skull but it’s not pretty shape.
I’ve had a five-head since all of my life. I’ve had what looks like a receding hair-line since I was in elementary school. I’ve been self-conscious about my hair for as long as I can remember. Not only do I have an ugly dome, an epic, Peyton Manning five-head, but I’ve also got the blonde-guy equivalent to the Asian, straight-haired ‘fro. It sounds cool in theory, but it’s not that rad. Having straight hair is kinda shitty. If I wear it down, I look 10 years younger. That blows because I’m only 22 and I really don’t wanna look like a middle schooler. I like to think I’ve outgrown that awkward phase. And then my other option is to style it. Styling your hair is fun! When I’m having a goodass hair day, I feel unstoppable! There’s nothing better than a good hair day. However, when I style my hair, I look don’t look a day under 35. In the past, I’ve convinced people that I’m a single/divorced dad. That’s not good. That’s not good at all. I don’t think that I really look 22, if there is a “look” that goes with being in your early 20’s. But one thing that certainly does NOT make you look 22 is going fucking bald.
Now, truth be told, I’m not going bald. Some of my hair (ONLY SOME thank fucking god) has fallen out because of stress and drug/alcohol abuse. But now that I’m in recovery and approaching 100-days sober, my life is MUCH less stressful. If you’re like me and you’ve found that your hair gets kinda thin and falls out from stress, DO NOT FUCKING WORRY!! That shit grows back. I promise. I know from experience. It takes a LONG ASS TIME but it does actually grow back. There’s nothing that sucks worse than the injustice of losing your hair when you’re young. OH THE HUMANITY! But really, is it worth worrying about? Is it REALLY going to to effect my sobriety and recovery from alcoholism/addiction? Or am I letting it effect my sobriety and setting myself up for failure? I think it’s the last one. Combined with my douche bag brain imagining things.
The hair that I’ve lost from stress is not really noticeable BUT I SURE AS HELL NOTICE IT! But really, this is some bullshit that I should not be worrying about. Hair fucking falls out. When the hair gods come to scalp you, you’re fucked and there is not really anything you can do about it. Now, if I didn’t have a hideous dome, I’d be shaving that shit daily because as vain as I am, I fucking hate having to always worry about my hair. It’s a really stupid and vain thing to worry about especially when it’s more of a reflection of my neurosis and my childish horse shit than it is some kind of STATUS SYMBOL. But, truly, the only reason that I worry about it is because I look like Skeletor when I buzz my lettuce down. I get pissed off just thinking about it. Not only is my head all dented up from years of bashings, but it’s shaped like a dinosaur egg and it’s roughly the same size. It’s just not that big. I’ve got a tiny head on a 6’1″ body. It’s a STRUGGLE, MAN! YOU DON’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW!
This is why I like putting my idiotic worries into words and tackling them because when I say them out loud, I realize just how stupid they are. And worrying about losing my hair is stupid. I’m a grownass man now and whether or not I like it, my ass is going bald at some point. So I can either worry about that until the day it actually happens–and god only knows, how shitty would that be if I spent my whole life worrying about going bald and NEVER went bald? That would fucking awful. That’s not even fucking worth it. That’s some Greek Mythology shit: the miserable douche who lived to be 100 and spent every day of his life FREAKING THE FUCK OUT about going bald, and never EVER lost a single hair on his melon. What an absolutely appalling waste of time. Look, if you’re an idiot kid like me and worry about going bald in a completely irrational way on a daily basis, then think about this: in the future, probably in our lifetimes, we’ll cure baldness completely. I guarantee it. I bet $5 that there are more scientists working in labs all over the world trying to create a pill that completely reverses hair loss than there are trying to cure cancer. And that’s fucked up. More men are probably worried about losing their hair than they are about getting cancer. Is one more likely than the other? Yes. Undeniably. Cancer isn’t nearly as common as hair loss, but they way that people worry about it, you’d think that it was. The reality is–and I hate to admit it–that hair loss is not lethal. If I wake up tomorrow with no hair, the only thing I really have to worry about is a sunburn. I’m not gonna die. But I know I’m not the only dude out there who worries about hair loss being THE HIDDEN KILLER! It’s not. I gotta get over myself. And you do too.
By the time all of us are dead, hair loss will have been eradicated and no longer shall humans be plagued by such a malevolent reality of nature. Being bald will probably turn into a fashion statement–especially when NOBODY is bald. People will “rock the natural look” as some kind of counter culture thing. It’ll be weird when our great grandchildren look back at our selfies and see that baldness was an unstoppable fucking force that we were too weak to contend with. It vexed us and tortured us. It kept us from going to Mars and curing cancer. IT’S JUST NOT WORTH IT IF I DON’T HAVE HAIR!! No, really, it’s cool. You’re not gonna die.
If anything, I’m kinda looking forward to my life getting significantly easier once all of my hair falls out and I’m left with no choice. Of course, there IS a choice and that is to be a toolbox and get a hair transplant or nut the fuck up and shave my head and be a fucking man. Am I really going to spend my early 20’s saving up for a cosmetic surgery that I really don’t need? If I choose to keep letting this effect me, then yes, I am headed down that sad, lonely road. What does it say about my content of character that THAT really matters to me? I MUST HAVE HAIR OR ELSE I CAN’T LOOK MYSELF IN THE MIRROR!! I’M A MONSTER!! That’s pathetic and I’m being a baby.
Like all stupid worries, I feel childish and ashamed to even admit that I’ve got a whole article full of things to say about this topic. But it’s puzzling to me that I KNOW this is irrational and negatively effecting my life in that I’m wasting a lot of time stressing about something that doesn’t really matter, and yet I still stress about it. Even worse, I beat myself up for stressing about it and then I stress about stressing about it. And all that time I stress about the stress and cause triple the stress, I lose more hair from stress. This is the stupidest catch-22 of all time. And I’m done with it. This is dumb. I’m troubled by this in a way that I would be if my doctor told me that one day I’m likely to lose my hands and feet. I’ve honestly got nothing to lose by going bald. Instead, I’ve started looking at is as having something to gain: peace of mind. If my douche bag brain could have one less thing to trouble me with, my life would improve greatly.
So don’t worry. Especially not about losing your hair. I’m not going to go bald and all of the sudden lose all of my friends and become homeless and pick up the bottle again. No. That’s not happening no matter how much I worry that it will happen. But if I do keep worrying about something this stupid, my friends will get pissed and resentful and if it starts effecting my personality and I become an asshole about it, then I will lose my friends. And if I let this get me worked up, there’s no telling how something this insignificant can put me in the relapse zone (it doesn’t take much if you understand the mechanisms behind addiction). So shut the fuck up, brain. You’re making my head an inhospitable environment for both me and my hair that lives on top of you! I’m cool with my hair. If my hair wants to leave, I totally don’t blame it. My head is a mess and not a cool place. I completely understand why my hair doesn’t wanna be chilling on top of such a shitty place. With a neighbor like my brain, my hair has every right to abandon shit. “This neighborhood blows. Adios, fucker!” That’s what my hair is is thinking while my brain is churning away and cranking about bullshit. This is dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. All us should stop worrying. It’s gonna be ok. I promise. Enjoy it while you have it!