Post #83: My brows need IRON

dun dun DUN....(cue soap opera big secret reveal music)

I was watching this episode of Will and Grace a few days ago, and for some reason I can't remember Jack lost an eyebrow, was wearing an eye patch, and then had Grace draw on this stunningly natural sharpie version. Haha, oh Jack.

In related news, I went a litttttle overboard on the plucking (again). It's not as pathetic as last time-one eyebrow isn't cocked significantly higher than the last one-but they still look pretty anemic. I am putting myself on a strict no-plucking diet for the rest of the month, which is a shame because tweezing is my happy place.

Someone was telling me that when they were overwhelmed, they piled on the eyeliner-my eyebrows themselves are my stress barometer. And I'm feeling stressed out. Everything (knock on wood a few times) is holding relatively steady-I have one more week of steroids left, and then I will be totally off them. I exercise 5 days a week. I eat out. I'm finally taking my freaking vitamins. And yet, like the understated, elegant beauty that is Jack, I am giving a huge SUPER THIN EYEBROW RAISE to the whole situation.

I just feel edgy and....concerned. Wary. There is so much riding on this last bit of tapering, and then my body's reaction to just being on the one other drug. I find myself craving late night cookie binges and bad TV. I pulled my quilt out of the dryer today and wrapped it around myself and just stood still, in the middle of the kitchen, because I felt so happy and warm and safe. I crave comfort, and sometimes old habits are the most comfortable of all. Cue eyebrow tweezing, stress eating, magazine reading, and Internet shopping. Wheeeeee!

What is especially ironic is that at a time when I am worrying about the hair on my head, I gladly removed a lot of the hair above my eyes. Everyday my hair looks a little more deflated (to my eyes, anyway). It still comes out in the shower and when I comb my hands through my hair after. I keep waiting for the tipping point, the point at which my scalp becomes visible beneath my hair, or I develop a bald spot, or whole clumps start falling out. Part of me just wants to shave it off and be done with it, but that's not right.

So, I keep going. I keep doing what I'm doing until I have my colonoscopy, so I can make more informed decisions. I'll keep sweating with the oldies, and try to resist the siren call of the sugary treats in the freezer. I'll just keep waiting. I'm pretty good at waiting. I've had a lot of practice.