There's no going back, is there.

[whynot]

I'm not the kind of person who is going to be making any respectable amount of money in his life. That's what being in the arts will get you. I wish I was good at something else. Other than singing and drawing, I'm more or less a useless human being.
The money that has been left for me – by my relatives, and certainly from my parents…whatever their hopes, or mine, for its use – most likely as a means to further my education, or buy my first house – will have to be poured into this pathetic battle with my self esteem and the desperate attempt to keep my identity. I KNOW that I can`t afford the best hair transplant in the world. This makes me…so crestfallen. I`ll never be able to afford a surgery with Dr. Cole or Wasson & Wong.

Histogen. It seems so promising, but who`s to say I`ll have any hair left to thicken by the time 2015 rolls around? I’ll be 28, my supposed “best years” almost behind me. By this time, I’ll be visibly balding to all my friends and acquaintances, unless I completely withdraw from my life.

You know what gets me the most? It’s the feeling of fraudulence – as though once I become bald, all my friends will think me unworthy of the attention I once had. Will I be seen as a cheater? I feel like one. I have no idea how to…feel honest. I feel so incomplete. I know that I’m becoming entirely undesirable as a physical specimen, and it’s making me feel disgusting. In fact, I never think I used to berate myself so constantly, almost unconsciously, so often, in my life. Moments pass where I realize I’ve been saying “You’re a piece of shit, stupid ****ing ****, failure, joke, nobody will ever love you again” under my breath, almost as if I was reciting a grocery list.

I don't know why today was any different than any other over the last year. Somehow it hit me like a ton of bricks - I really am going to be locked in this pathetic, laughable battle with my identity and my dignity for the rest of my life.