Movember: Week One – Grief, Interrupted

MOVEMBER LOG: DAY 7



Movember continues, and I remain bravely beardless.

One week in, and I still feel like someone close to me has died whenever I feel a smooth cheek under my fingers. I decided to look up the five stages of grief to maybe better understand the feelings that I’m going through, and came to a disturbing realization. I’m hardly even through denial.

“Denial can be conscious or unconscious refusal to accept facts, information, or the reality of the situation.”

I’ve had a pretty decent week. I’ve been writing up a storm, have had some new opportunities coming my way on that front (stay tuned!) and even saw 65daysofstatic live. But the entire time, I’m ricocheting between neurosis and obliviousness. I’ll be just fine and dandy, confidently chatting to someone or pounding away on a keyboard in a cafe somewhere, and the next moment I’ve got eyeballs nervously scanning the room because I’m incredibly self-conscious about my follicular handicap. A minute later, and the worry is gone once I’ve forgotten about it all over again.

My brain is erecting an imaginary shield of facial hair to protect my fragile psyche.

I can only hope that the continued growth of my moustache will help repair my damaged ego/mind/both. I’m walking a very thin line as it is. Healthy people don’t draw beards onto themselves when they snapchat.

This is not the face of a well-adjusted person.
It’s not all bad. I’m transitioning well into the next stage: anger. Which is to say I become infuriated every time I see there’s still just a dirty smudge above my lip. 

What the hell are you looking at?

(If you’d like to donate to keep me annoyed and babyfaced, then you can do so here.)

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