The Girl with a Thousand Faces

Have you ever made the wrong face at the wrong time?

If you have then congratulations, you have been accepted into the club of "people who make wrong faces at the wrong time" club (is that to many "clubs" ?). We have really cool jackets and socks. You can wear our really cool jackets and socks to our semi-annual-bi-monthly-regular day meetings, but make sure that you also wear other clothes along with the nifty jacket and socks and do not only wear the jacket and socks. You would think I wouldn't have to tell people this but you would be surprised. Or maybe not that surprised. You are in the "people who make wrong faces and the wrong time club" so people wearing only jackets and socks may not be that far of a stretch.

Should we make a club for people who only wear the jackets and socks provided by other clubs? Or would that just be considered an orgy? I will wait patiently for your feed back.

We got a little sidetracked there so lets get back to the main event (Damn orgies always getting in the way of my ranting).

I am now able to properly confirm that I have made the wrong face at the wrong time at least 1 bazoogle** amount of times. Pick your jaws back up ladies and gentlemen, I know a bazoogle is more than any of you can comprehend but it is a semi-accurate assumption. However, I did not realize how often I was making the wrong faces and the wrong time until today.

I walked into work this morning and my coworker/supervisor/owner-of-hedgehog-guy came into my little office to inform me on some information that I had not been told of yet but would be enlightened of in a moment. Now this morning I had run out of spoons ***, and had massive trouble getting out of bed. It was one of those mornings when you want to call into work because you really can not deal with people today and people do not want to deal with you and you would really be doing everyone a favor by staying home because the voices in your head are telling you that. You know what I'm talking about. So after I forced my way out of bed and cried on the kitchen floor for 5 minutes. Then at work, while fighting off the urge to literally (no, I do not actually mean figuratively when I say literally) hide under my desk and stare at the wall for a solid 3 hours, I made it into my office and started up my computer. Then my coworker/supervisor/hedge-hog-owner-guy walked in to tell me about that information that I was not aware of but was about to be enlightened about. 

The conversation went a little something like this:

coworker: Heeyyyy, hows it- (this is when he looked up at me and saw my face like this)

me: (cue look of utter defeat and with a hint of questionable anger in the eyebrows)

co-worker: (cue look of surprise and possibly slight disgust)

me: (in my head) this is probably not the correct facial expression, I should change it

co-worker: haha what's that look for? I'm not going to ruin your day, don't worry.

me: (adds what hopes to be a smile but is most likely a weird manic grimace when paired with questionable anger eyebrows, now hoping I have the correct facial expression for this encounter) Sorry! I know! What's up!

co-worker: *awkward laugh* Just have some stuff for you to look at

me: (trying to force my eyebrows up into a more suitable position to match my smile and failing miserably. I now look like I'm on crack) ok, lay it on me.

co-worker: (he looks like he thinks that I'm going to implode) ok well here is x,y,z could you look into it for me?

me: (still manic smiling, with eyebrows that feel so high on my forehead that they have probably just disappeared into my hairline) yeah of course no problem!

Co-worker/Supervisor/Hedge-hog-owning-guy leaves, and I am sitting in my office convinced that he hates me and is telling everyone that I am crazy and/or having a mental breakdown.

What is projecting.

This was one of those times where I could not for the lifer of me get my face to do the proper expression for this situation. Usually I'm pretty good at smiling when needed and looking upset when needed (or so I thought until this little incident) but today was not a day for normality apparently.

I find myself, when in conversation with someone, that it takes me a second or two longer to come up with the proper facial expression for certain conversations. I'll throw something on my face and hope that its what is needed for whatever we are talking about. I thought I was pretty good at it too, until today. I've been re-thinking my entire life, and it seems like all the weird looks I get or when people just stop talking mid conversation to stare at me are not in fact them seeing through this façade of semi-put-togetherness with there magic laser vision eye sight that they use to view all my insecurities and see how much I actually am not put together and they are not disgusted by how much I've not only fucked up in the last few hours but in my entire life, they are just wondering if I have had a stroke or some other sort of medical issue that would cause my face to look how it does.

And that, my dear little peaches, is how I will end this tale because the writers block is now kicking in and I need to go watch some Netflix.

Crazy is What Crazy Does.. Or something along those lines.

Does anyone else ever feel like they are going crazy? 

Not the stressed out kind of crazy, the proper crazy. Where you start muttering to yourself, you see people waving at you or something out of the corner of your eye and then when you turn your head they're gone, and all of the sudden you here a muttering in your head that you cant control which leads to you muttering more to yourself to drown out those voices, or to keep a conversation going because you're enjoying those voices. And you start rambling in a blog post that no one is really reading but you feel good because the internet is big and maybe some one out there will read this and see it for the gigantic cry for help that it is (what are commas?). 

It's like I am in a kind of purgatory right now- not quite crazy, but not quite sane. 

Heaven would be sanity, and hell would be a complete 'loosing my mind' breakdown- if we want to bring a little 'fate'; and 'biblical-ness' into this conversation. And I don't mean a healthy break down*. A breakdown where it takes a tremendous amount of time and effort and a many of Therapists to make you resemble a shred of your old self once again.

This is kind of how I feel sometimes when I have to wake up in the morning.

Right now, I am smack dab in the middle. I'm not quite full fledge crazy but I am also not what I would consider to be insanely sane. 

I sound ridiculous.

Does anyone else ever feel like this?

Do full on 'crazy' people even realize they're 'crazy'? Or do they think that they are the normal ones? Or (if we go into full on inception mode) are the 'crazy' people the Sane ones, and the sane ones are the 'crazy' people?  If we go with what would seem to be the obvious answer and say that no, people who are actually 'crazy' do not realize they are 'crazy' then we could conclude that in order to say sane we/I would just have to continue to question my own sanity. 

(Please continue if you would like to enjoy some more word vomit.)

However, you could also assume that questioning your own sanity would lead to you going crazy. 

Or you would just begin to deny that you are crazy, therefore confirming that you have gone insane. 

These are the unfortunate loopholes I get myself into when the insomnia hits.  


*Yes, I do believe that there is such a thing as a healthy breakdown.

*A small Disclaimer: I understand that the term 'crazy' is not the political correct term for someone with mental illness. However, I am not a politically correct person so... there's that.