Poker Face Off of the Man in the Box

“I'm the man in the box, buried in my s*it” (Alice in Chains, Man in the Box).

The story I'm about to tell always reminds me of that John Travolta and Nicholas Cage movie, Face Off. Now that you're with me on the visual, I'm going to take you on a journey through not one but two surgeries related to craniosynostosis. Where my skull and my brain were growing at different paces. Both of these surgeries happened before the age of five. Good news, they didn't stop me. 

The first craniosynostosis surgery happened before I was a year old and this kind of surgery was a matter of controversy at the time (so I'd learn). Basically, the surgeon reshapes the bones of the skull and uses wires for structural support. The reason this kind of surgery is done is to correct deformities, but I had to have it corrected because the wires and the bones were protruding. If this were a wrestling event, the crowd would be chanting, “you fucked up,” at this fact. 

The surgeon who did the second surgery probably improved the quality of my life and I'd see him regularly until I was eighteen to make sure that my skull had grown properly. On that day, he offered to fill the dents in my temple region and I said no. At that point, I was seven surgeries deep and elective surgery wasn't on my bucket list. But, I'm grateful that he spared me of the possibilities as a child. 

Fortunately, the first craniosynostosis surgery happened so early in my life that I don't remember it. But, I do remember the second one, and I will never forget the fear. I can see the hospital room as I write. I can see the picture of my eyes swollen shut and my head wrapped up in a dome. I can see the guardrails on my bed for the summer that I had to recover. That second surgery was basically a fifth birthday present. It is truly amazing how much I love my birthday considering several of them coincided with a recovery from surgery. 

Now, why do I see the movie Face Off, which came out probably a decade after the second surgery? Because what they do in that movie was done to me to some degree. They took my face off to fix my skull. I'll give your reflexes a moment. The king's horses and king's men put me back together again – that's still a fucked up nickname highschool friends. 

In the year that I declined cosmetic surgery, I was in the midst of a decades-long “you can't read my poker face,” tour of self ableism. I just wanted the CP and the surgeries to be a thing of the past. As a teenager, I was insecure enough about whether or not I was attractive. The protector in me said no, but, the quiet small voice of my inner child supported that no so that I'd be seen. 

On the outside, I have this body to contend with that doesn't always look the way I want or function the way I want. On the inside, there's an inner strength that's been a flicker in the dark at times, but is as fierce as a raging fire. I try not to wallow as The Man in the Box or hide behind the Poker Face because if I don't allow myself to be, how can I ever expect that from others? The point of these stories is to tell stories, to invite you into my thoughts, and to demonstrate that even though I tried for a really long time to leave 95% of who I am at the door when I show up at work and elsewhere, that's unrealistic. It may have helped me succeed in some ways, but not always in the ways I wanted to. Showing up as myself CP, intersectionality, and all reminds me that there's nothing I can't do. 

I'm the man in the box, relinquishing my shit, removing my poker face, and choosing me as I exit the box. I've tried really hard to write these posts from vulnerable authenticity because you're only going to see me if you want to, you're only going to like me if you choose to, and you're only going to stand in my corner because you believe in me. 

I'm so grateful to the people who have believed in me, especially when I did not, and I'm grateful to choose this path and surrender the outcome. You might think that'd be easy for me, but it's not. It's just the choice I made today. 

PSA, it's mental health awareness month. There's no shame in taking care of your mind the same way you'd take care of your body. There's no shame in taking care of yourself. Peace and love. 

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