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I’m standing outside my shower and I don’t want to go in.

I’m not tired or in a rush, simply avoiding the reckoning of how much hair I’ll lose this time. This dread has been my constant companion ever since I lathered up, rinsed and watched handfuls of dirty blonde strands circle the drain three weeks ago. It wasn’t the normal 100 to 150 strands everyone sheds daily; these were thick clumps of something I never imagined I could lose.

I comb the conditioner through gently and come away with more. And more. I feel fragile, terrified to pull my hair up. Even laying my head on my pillow feels like a risk. “This can’t be happening,” I wail, my hands shaking as I feel the unprecedented t

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