Oh. Joy.

Thank you, unrelenting stress.
And thank you, opressive depression.

Chunks of my hair, I repeat, CHUNKS OF MY HAIR are falling out. For once, I am thankful for the ungodly amount of hair I have, even though it is fine in texture. If all else fails and I end up with bald spots, I at least already know I look awesome with a shaved head.

I'm in a complete fog. I feel do disoriented and full of rage.