I hate my brain

 I don't know if there is a time when I don't hate my brain. I hate that I look in the mirror and am reminded I need shampoo, but I googled shampoo. I don't like th bars, my overly poorly bleached hair is too fragile to aggressivevly rub a bar of oat chunks vigoroulsly against my scalp while reading a detoriating box that ssays the bar doesn't lather. But if I buy plastic bottles they will just end up in a landfill for all of time, and my hair isn't worth that. I hate my hair. I want to cut it all off and I don't care what others think but I think I do care what I think sometimes and I don't think I would look great with a shaved head or I wouldn't want to draw more attention to myself or look like some militant crazy person. I am crazy but I am not militant. I don't want to be seen but I want my thoughts to be known but if my thoughts are known people will hate me and if people hate me they will threaten me and they will want to kill me. Aand not because my thoughts are that ridiculous, I want people to have things like healthcare and POC to be given equatable opportunities and unfortunately that in this country is enough to want to be killed by a few million people and that really isn't an exaggeration and I want sunscreen because I need to walk the kids but my skin is so fucking sensitive that if you blow on it the wrong way I will break out for two weeks or maybe it's all my brain. Don't stress says dermatologists that impacts your skin, how I don't fucking know. My legs aren't impacted when I am stressed, my toes function just fine, I suppose my heart beats too fast and I sweat too much and my neck gets tight but I am always stressed. Do you know what it's like to have a brain that never shuts the fuck up? That the act of shampoo is an environmental crime that the act of sunscreen is a decision to feel unattractive for weeks because your skin will revolt that I am always exhausted because while I sit in my chair my brain sits in delerium. That I am saturated in horror. I wish I had the basic anxiety people have. Just the basic fear that everyone hates them or is talking about them. That sounds like a spring fucking day. I hate the intrusive thoughts always whispering how I am about to die and lose everything I love for all eternity. Do you know how fucking long that has been the voice in my fucking head? Since I was 7. My whole damn life has been screaming at me and I just want it to shut up. I just want it to stop and it doesn't except with xanax but that is addictive and causes alzheimers but honestly so does a lifetime of stress and maybe I'd like to forget all the awful shit in my brain but that comes with not swallowing but this is why I google am I autistic because sometimes all the noise in my head is just better with louder noise, with headphones. I hate the outside noise but the musical noise can at least drown it out it can make me feel like I am flying, like I can look at my body from the outside like myself, the me I like can get a word edgewise in and say "shhush just scream these words instead, fly, you are high on the notes and let that be" and for a minute or two that is glorious with the rosey tinted glasses I can't bring to take off and see the real color of the sky, the sickly bright bluye that sometimes brings no joy whereas other times it feels like the only time I can see light in my life. 

I walk away to pick up my headphones. I see the bluetooth, we don't have headphone jacks anymore so now my thought says "receivers can cause tumors" but cords can strangle. It is constant. Move on, this is what it is.