SPLIT END ~''~ A quaratined tale

Epiphany

I'd subscribed to productivity culture and it was killing me
Constantly watching people push themselves on a daily basis to achieve goals
Rotating a million things at a time and still getting it.
I had to be the ideal girl. I had looked up videos, articles weren't really my thing.
I had focused on my studies, body care, mental health, ironically. So how, oh how could I have forgotten hair?
   With the scissors to my hair, a possible future flashed before my eyes.
I'd cut my hair, it'd look terrible
I'd wake up the next morning and my aunt would be panicked at the sight of me. My father would be distressed.
I'd have to get it done by a barber. I'd look in the salon mirror and lose another part of myself.
I'd spend the next few months covering my shame in a face cap or bandana
Take care of my hair, it'd grow thick and healthy
I'd be happy with myself for making the right the decision and be able to tell my story. Appearances aren't everything
I'd made a big sacrifice for the greater good

But as I stared into my dull eyes, I knew the truth
I would watch the barber move through what was left with the clipper with regret
The imperfections would be clear as day, the near bald spots and thin areas
I would live through the first days trying to convince myself I made the right choice
I'd look in the mirror and stare at the damage I'd done to myself
I'd pretend to be ok. My parents would try to understand what happened
In that moment I knew, I'd cut my hair and I would hate it, I would hate me more
I'd kill my hair and I'd go along with it.... eventually

Was it worth it? Hurting my family?
Because I knew that the moment I snipped, there would be an inevitable end

Why end my life when it'd only just started?
Was it worth putting them through a life long misery?
With my father constantly asking, what went wrong? What had he missed?
What about my sister, my aunt?

But in that moment it all makes sense right?
With the way too may pills in hand, the rope, the inevitable jump, or in my case, the scissors.
What's the point of waiting any longer? The world would move on.

Your family would move on eventually, or they wouldn't, they wouldn't need to, you don't have one.

What's the point in living to tell a story without a happy ending?
In that moment, a voice that had seemed to be silent through my inner war finally spoke in an anger I couldn't understand and can never explain

"What if you prove yourself wrong? Take your own advice and be kind to yourself, why hurt your hair when you're the one who didn't care enough in the first place
Why did you keep pushing when you knew you were at breaking point?

Why don't you forgive your mistakes?
Why don't you live for you, because you're the only one in the end
Why won't you answer when help calls. Who told you there's no way out?
Even if someone did, it wouldn't matter unless you believed it, accepted it

What will it take you, to keep pushing because you know deep down, there is a light, you're just too comfortable in your unhappiness to see that, because it's easier to be sad. To mope around
To not put yourself first. To take shit people say, because ironically, it's safer in the dark
Those in the light live a facade. No need to pretend
Live, cus the world is cruel anyways. Live cus it's about time you took things one step at a time. Laugh because you deserve it. Cry because you need to. Get back up because the world is yours if you so desire it. Be the hero of your own story
Because people are too lost in their own world to look into yours deep enough
Save yourself, for you" 
It all happened in what seemed to be a nanosecond. "That was a long speech" I said aloud and I put down the scissors

On May 21st, 12am I swore to myself to fight, for me