My level of acceptance toward the general ineptitude of my white blood cells is as inconsistent as my motivation to study.

More often than not, I could not give a fraction of a shit that my hair is basically absent. My reasoning there is mostly along the lines of "What would be different if I had it anyway?"

Looking pretty? Where does that get me? Friends? No. A job? No. A date? Maybe, but that's really not a priority at the moment due to my innate lack of skills in that department unrelated to the no hair thing. I could give you the whole, "You're beautiful no matter what" speech, or the "All that matters is your health and that you love yourself" ramble, but you've heard that a million times. For the times when I don't care about being bald, the key is realizing hair is hair and although it may not be ideal, it's really not that big of a deal.

However, there are also times when I talk a big game, but I'm actually right pissed about the whole situation. It comes in sporadic spurts, just general anger and fist shaking in the direction of my immune system. I get so, extraordinarily, beyond annoyed when people look at me sadly and pityingly and say things like, "It was doing so well" or "You looked so pretty" or the classic "You could always start wearing wigs again." Bruh. That's incredibly irritating to me and it sends me in a spiral of negative outlooks on the whole situation.

And as quickly as it started, that anger will dissipate back into zero shits given. This is mostly attributed to me having better things to worry about, such as the aforementioned studying. Otherwise, if you can do something about it, like getting the shots or some other treatment, do it, get something done. Distract yourself with more important things.

This was pretty aimless. I guess the point is that although the acceptance comes and goes in waves, you can learn to maintain it and bounce back.