Most days I don’t think about my hair. Maybe I’ll brush it in the morning, but to be honest, often I forget. Then there the days I wake up and notice that it’s too long or too frizzy. On those days I spend way too much time thinking about my hair, and worrying about all the things I’m not thinking about when I’m thinking about my hair.
Having a bad brain day is like that, only worse. With hair, I can convince myself that my identity is not dependent on the shininess of my locks. When my brain isn’t working right, it’s a different story. I know a bad brain day is under way when I reread what I’ve written and it all seems obvious and dull. The sentences clunk and creak. I think: This is no good. I am no good. Those days cloud my mental sky and send my confidence running for cover.
Read the rest of the article in The Chronicle.