I realise that people are reading about my face, so it follows that it {my face} would be scrutinised like a map. Maps are things that make you frown, right? Frown in concentration, that is: you’re looking for where you are going, and your eyes get squinty, and your brow furrows, and your mouth turns down.

The people who are staring at my face are going to need Botox! And I am going to undo all the work if I don’t stop making faces at my face as well!

It’s getting on… two weeks since I got treated. There are bumpy bits that came up yesterday, near to my mouth, where the Restalyne was injected. Cue another meltdown, which didn’t last long because, really? I’ve had worse pimples in the centre of my forehead. After having exhausted myself emotionally in the first week or so, I realise that energy squandered in this direction is a waste of time.

Speaking of the centre of my forehead.

This is where the Botox lives, and the two to three days projected for it to ‘take’ actually took about a week. Maybe? I was so intent on my mouth brackets that I was pretty much ignoring the site of the Massive Furrow.

I took it for granted that I really knew what Botox did, so I looked it up.

Botox works to relax the contraction of muscles by blocking nerve impulses. The result is muscles that can no longer contract, and so the wrinkles relax and soften. It usually takes two to four days to see cosmetic improvement and the effects tend to last from four to six months. Most patients require retreatment to remove wrinkles and lines as they begin to reappear, but after each injection the wrinkles return as less severe as the muscles are trained to relax.*

Hoo, boy. Frozen muscles? I can kind of feel that. Kind of? I tried to make a face the other day, and I couldn’t do it, because it felt like there was a shield or a block in my forehead. I started to do some yoga breathing, and the moment of shock passed.

*Via