Bangs

I just got bangs cut. Again. They are the short Betty Page type of bangs. I have had bangs cut several times throughout my history. This is the first time I think they will survive.
For so many years, my hair was just long and wild. When I was in the peak of my junked out years, my hair was always a wild mess. I often had dreads throughout my hair, mostly just from never brushing through it.
Whenever I was dope sick, I would just lie in the bathtub with the warm water running. Something about the running water was comforting to me. It was often the only thing that would keep me from feeling terrible. It was the only way I could keep from constantly puking. It was the only way to let my mind wander out of the intense pain, if only for a moment. I spent many, many hours under the running faucet in my dope sick days. I guess that was one of the advantages to living in a motel...you did not have to pay extra for water and you had lots and lots of hot water. The problem was living with constantly matted hair.
After the Hurricane, I got my hair cut. I got it cut above my shoulders with bangs. I was tired of it always being matted and a complete pain. I had never had my hair this short before. When I first got back to New Orleans and was clean, the short hair was awesome. It was easy to wash, and only took a while to style. Once I started using again, I only fixed it up when I needed to work and make money. The rest of the time it was a mess.
It started to grow out a little, but I hardly noticed. That is when the real problems started to come about. I started burning it...frequently. I would bend down over a pipe, and the next thing I knew, my bangs were on fire. Once I did not even notice until the fire got big enough to singe off half of an eyebrow. (In my defense, that only took a couple of seconds!) I lit on fire when lighting candles in one of NOLA's regular power outages in those months following the Hurricane. I lit it on fire lighting cigarettes, too. It may have been because I was so wasted during much of that time that I did not even realize I was setting myself on fire...regularly.
I look back on those times with regret. Those were a good few months in New Orleans, but I feel I wasted it. I feel I did not take advantage of the city at this time. It was a beautiful time to be in New Orleans. The camaraderie was awesome. We were all trying to pull together and pull the city out of the funk. I was just burying myself in the funk. I feel like I wasted so much of my time. Messed so much up. Burning my hair is nothing compared to all the other shit I burned.
I know I will never be able to right so many of my wrongs. I know I can never go back and do so many things over again. I just hope I can make it all worth it one day. I have gotten my head back on track, now I have to put the rest of my life back together. A daunting task at times. A scary task at times. I just hope these stories I have to tell will make it all worth it one day. Feel like I am struggling today. Feel like I have lost my voice. Time constraints and exhaustion are wearing me down. I used to be able to party for days on end. Now, I cannot even catch up on a few missing hours of sleep. Life so different now.