No fucking clue

More on a similar topic (similar to my last post).
I've had lots of thoughts swirling around in my head, and I'm not sure they're ready for culmination and expulsion yet.
But here goes:
The tea shop at which I work (that is not yet open) is owned by an older British couple, Robin and Elizabeth. They are somewhat conservative. Elizabeth has this very solid idea in her mind of what she wants the girls serving the customers to look like, complete with lacy aprons that are a story all their own.
She has told two of the three girls working on the counter (immediately upon meeting them) how cute they would look in the lacy aprons. Guess who the third girl is?
Nathaniel (a coworker) told me the other day (while trying on the aforementioned aprons) that it was the first time I'd looked like a girl.
I saw a girl today walking on the arm of a man; her hair was shaved off, shorter than mine is now, possibly shorter than mine has ever been, and I thought of that horrible email my "friend" sent me. What she said about my hair, and I quote: "i don't know why you shaved your head, but it looks horrible. i thought i could stand it until it grew back in, but then when it started to get long again, you shaved it! I had gotten my hopes up that it would get long and normal…oh well." And she said other nasty things about me "pretending to be sexy", etc. And I thought about someone whose opinion matters very much to me who said he liked my hair better when it was longer and more growed out.
And I thought, Do I care about being physically attractive?
I still don't have an answer.

I shaved my hair to redefine (for myself) physical beauty, because I have gone through major love/hate relationships with my appearance. I shaved my hair as part of my descent, as in "the Goddess rebirths, cuts her hair and goes under to tend the sleeping souls". I shaved my hair because I am interested in a warrior's path, on which I might learn about strength, and honor, and dealing with pain, and in my mind, I had two options: growing my hair long and putting it in either dreads or braids, decorated with beads and feathers, like warriors of lots of ancient cultures; or shaving my hair, like warriors of my culture. I chose the latter because of Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta, and also because I don't think long hair looks very good on me.
And when I shaved my hair, my descent was much clearer and sharper for me, and my roommate suggested that it was a symbolic beheading, and I was very comfortable with death and decay.

And now I am looking at older pictures of myself, and thinking of all the things people have said to and about me (that I know of), and thinking maybe I should grow my hair out again. It looked really cute that time when I cut it myself.

And I have no fucking clue.

What a Day (or Two)

I don't even know where to begin. I've been wanting to write up a post the past couple days, but the computer/internet has been being stupid. My computer says that the network has not assigned my computer an address, and so connection to the internet is sporadic, and my brother insists that it's an "open network", which apparently means that it doesn't matter, but unfortunately, connection to the internet continues to be sporadic.
I'm using my family's computer; my brother and sister are at a concert, so the computer's free.

A few days ago, I was reading a book my sister lent me (A Great and Terrible Beauty, I can't remember the author), and one of the characters engages in self-mutilation. She explained to the main character that she did it because she couldn't feel anything, and she hurt herself basically to see if she *could* feel. Now, I've heard this before (I had a friend a few years back who also (used to) use self-mutilation), but for some reason, it struck me with particular force. Perhaps because recently, it's occurred to me that I also have trouble feeling. I haven't begun to self-mutilate, but that may be that I am in enough pain already (in brief, my spine is crooked, which causes back and neck pain, as well as headaches, my joints are in constant pain, possibly because my thyroid probably doesn't work properly (I haven't seen a doctor yet), and I haven't been able to get new corrective lenses (glasses/contacts), so I'm getting (even more) headaches).
I dunno. I've been reading about the thyroid gland lately (in brief, I've been feeling terrible for a couple years, then found out thyroid troubles run in my family, so started looking into it), and it seems the thyroid is involved with emotions. (And a million other things.)
The song Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls came to mind:
You can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
Cuz I don't think that they'd understand
And when everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

The last line. Thyroid does all sorts of things to a person. Makes you irritable, pulls your emotions/mood in all sorts of different directions, makes you depressed, anxious, stressed-out. I feel like everyone who knows me really doesn't. I haven't been fully alive for years. I don't even understand myself. I do things I don't even understand. I don't know why I do them. I get that I'm terrified of intimacy, so I push people away. But I do all sorts of things, and I don't understand my own reasons and motivations.
My life has no meaning, sometimes.

Anyway. I got an email--well, I suppose it was sent a few days ago, but I wasn't able to check my email for a few days. It was from someone I was friendly with. It's happened before, people I thought were friends who actually didn't like me much. She sent me an email basically tearing me apart, telling me everything she doesn't like about me.
Honestly, it stressed me out. I was shaking, I felt anxious, I couldn't cope. I sent a short reply, but not very in-depth. And I tried to be polite.

But anyway, it's late. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep.