My arms hurt. For as long as I can remember I’ve been doing the same thing.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
My hands fumble with the bottle, pouring shampoo into my hand. I raise my hands to my head.
My hands travel ferociously across my scalp. I tilt my head back, the cool water hitting me.
I pick up the bottle again.
I pour shampoo into my hand, and lift my hands to my head.
Why am I doing this?
My hands continue to move as my brain fights against the repetitive actions. As I tilt my head back into the stream of water once more.
And that’s when I notice them. The strings. Pulling my hands toward the bottle.
The grips on each finger forcing me to pour the shampoo into my hands. The strings then tugging my arms upward toward my hair.
The strap jerking my head backward to force my head into the water.
I’m stuck in a never-ending cycle of nonsense.