Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 46

Last week was not a very great one for me. It was just like one misfortune on top of the other kept coming at me. It all started when I woke up to the news of the Nyanya bomb blast, and everything after then just took a spiral downturn, from Madam Adams being a pain in my neck all week, a very major fight with Dimeji that lasted all week, to everyone in my family just getting on my nerves. I just wasn’t sure how much I could handle anymore, before I broke down.

By the time Friday hit me, I had had it to the brim. I was weary, sad, angry, depressed, and every other negative emotion you can think of. It was with this mood I went into wash-mode on Saturday.

I started by detangling my hair, and it just did not want to cooperate. I cursed my bad luck, and wondered why my hair was conspiring with the whole world to kill me before my time. I managed to finish detangling the hair after one hour, but not after losing more hair than usual.

I did not have time to do any prepoo treatment. Although I was rushing anywhere, I was already walking on eggshells with my mum. I just wanted to lie in bed, and hide away from the whole world. I got my hair into the bath tub, and started washing, and the tangles were even worse. I battled with it for a long time, and eventually dried my hair, went to my room, took a pair of old scissors, and started cutting chunks of my hair off!

In my mind, I was cutting away tangles that could never be possibly undone, but in reality I was just taking my anger out on my hair, and chopping it off.

Later in the evening, I heard Dimeji knock on my door. I knew it was him, because he has his own way of knocking, and the first thought that came to my head was “What is this one doing here? Who invited him here?”

After he gained access, and saw me, the first sentence that jumped out of his mouth was “Oh my God, Anna. What did you do to your hair?”

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“What? Can’t I trim my hair again?” was my response.

“You didn’t trim this. You cut your hair, and without telling me.” He retorted.

I just kept looking at him. I did not think I could deal with one more drama, without losing it totally.

“What’s wrong with you? You have been acting out of character all week.”

To cut the long story short, I ended up crying for over 10 minutes in Dimeji’s arms, and he left after about an hour of consolation.

When I was about to go to bed that night, the reality of what I did dawned on me. My hair was barely packable, and I did not like it.

I was able to admit to myself that I had been impatient with my hair, thereby losing and detangling in a hurry, leading to tangles, breakage, and eventual loss of temper and hair. I should never have touched that hair when I was angry and depressed.

And that is months of good hair care practice gone down the drain.

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