I’ve come to the realization that I suffer from a bad case of “Resting Bitch Face”.
Here’s an album of my “Resting Bitch Face” in Canada, America, and Iceland…..
What causes Resting Bitch Face?
Probably a life time of being dead on the inside.
It’s hard at work because I gotta fake a smile all the time otherwise people seem to think that I’m going to snap.
It’s not that I hate or despise perky people. I just don’t feel the need to run around all day with an insane grin on my face.
In my house there was no need to smile.
The best thing around grandma, Richard, or Sue was to just adopt a blank face.
And growing up keeping a blank face also work at school as it kept the other kids and the teachers from knowing that anything was wrong at home.
When I went to the Westfield program in Edmonton from June 1982 to March 1983 we had to talk about our “feelings”. We also had to do “temperature check” every morning before classes so that we could express our feelings and emotions.
This did not go over well with me. I hated it. I hated talking about feelings.
Richard, Grandma, and the events of CFB Namao had killed off just about every emotion that I ever had.
Even to this day the worst thing that you could do is ask me to express emotions, or talk about my feelings, of talk about personal things.
“You don’t like to talk about personal things?”
Get the fuck outta here!
What the fuck is this blog then?
This blog is therapy and a testament.
Besides, I talk about what I want to talk about when I want to talk about it.
But Bobbie, you gotta talk about your feelings if you want to get better……..
Nope.
That’s not how this works.
You don’t get to ignore the past and then wash your hands of my dysfunction by further blaming me for being me.
Don’t forget, a lot of my dysfunction didn’t come from bad personal choice. Almost all of my dysfunction can be traced back directly to bad decisions made by members of the Canadian Armed Forces.
You didn’t honestly think that what I endured wasn’t going to have an effect on me, did you?
And blaming me for the dysfunction wasn’t going to cure me.
I think that this may be one of the reasons that I embraced an eccentric manner of dressing, what I lack on the inside I cover up with nice colours, patterns, and designs on the outside.