The Truth

I find myself spending an inordinate amount of time at home in front mirrors. I am not proud of it, but there it is. There’s the medicine cabinet mirror in the bathroom; next to which is placed a wall-mount mirror with a 360-degree swivel that has a normal side and a magnified side; a framed Renoir poster in the shower (yes, IN the shower...shut up, it's peaceful) in which I can see my silhouetted reflection; and a full-length deal in the bedroom. I watch myself do things that don’t require watching – brushing my teeth, putting on lotion, washing my hair, talking on the phone…you name it, I’m sure I’ve watched myself do it.

I’ve always been slightly ashamed of this behavior, yet this morning I had a breakthrough. A newfound rationalization, if you will, to make me feel less crazy. Because I do not find myself beautiful, and I do not find the act of watching myself entertaining, and because watching me is a matter of habit rather than intrigue, it cannot be chalked up to predictable old narcissism. I’ve come to the conclusion that I watch myself because it makes me feel like I have company. It’s the same reason that I think out loud when I’m home alone – I don’t want to feel like I’m really home alone. It’s comforting to see another person that is familiar, to hear a voice that I know. It’s a way to combat loneliness.

Although now I’m pretty sure that in voicing that, I’ve rationalized the inwardly crazy to the point where now I just appear outwardly crazy. Great.