Crazy or Crazy, Choose One

Husband’s birthday went better than expected. Didn’t have to dress up, because he wanted to stay in. Managed to pull my shiz together and made sure he had a good birthday.
I know I need to talk to someone because everything seems insurmountably difficult. Getting out of bed? Difficult. Basic hygiene? Difficult. Human interaction? Difficult. Getting to work on time? Difficult. Going to bed on time? Difficult.
All I want to do is avoid people and hide in my office.
And that’s how it happens, doesn’t it? That’s how people slowly stop reaching out to you. They get the hint you don’t want to be around them.
The problem is, it feels safe. You can’t fack up or embaress yourself if you’re by yourself. You can’t fail to meet expectations if there’s no one there with expectations.
While the thought of being alone completely has an almost romantic “lone dreamer observing the world and its follies” appeal, it’s unrealistic. In my head I imagine it as being able to just up and leave at any time to go out into the world, able to do whatever I want. And I don’t mean doing negative, self-destructive things – I mean going out into nature, camping, photography, hiking, going on random road trips anywhere for as long as I like, learning new things. All without judgement or “why are you doing this”, like wanting to take classes on a non-traditional interest is weird.
It’s doubly appealing since I am almost certain I will never feel comfortable in this world. That I’ll never fit, or feel the elusive sense of belonging that most people take for granted. So why fail constantly, forever, to do what others want when I can just seperate myself completely and do what *I* want?
Dangerously appealing. And yet I know this fantasy won’t ever be what is I picture it to be. I picture being alone and free to mean my life will be enriched by being able to travel and do what I want. But what is more likely is I will be featured on a hoarding show at age 40 or 50, haggard, with my teeth gone, and surrounded by cats. “NeuroticOne drew into her own world and built walls of stuff around her to keep people away.”
Yeah. So. Nope.
The other side of the coin is knowing that in order to be accepted and to belong I will have to embrace being an intolerable stereotype. And considering I was not born with pleasant facial structure, good hair and a small frame, makeup and styling seems like wasted energy. You can’t fix ugly. It’s a lose-lose situation.
And it’s astonishing, the mental disconnect between women who say “Oh, you don’t have to wear makeup!” and then those same women looking down on women who don’t wear makeup as “not caring about themselves.” Or they’ll say,”Just think of your face as a canvas! Makeup is *fun*! Teehee!”
I have tried to like makeup and hair styling. I’ve bought product that sits unused for years in my bathroom. I just can’t make myself enjoy what feels forced.

I don’t know. I can’t win, either way. It seems like this binary bullshiz – completely withdraw from society and probably go crazy, or embrace the limiter of femininity and live a lie just to be accepted then go crazy. It’s crazy all the way down! Yeeeaaah!


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