Bet everyone thinks you’re crazy.
You know they do.
Inhale, exhale. Let it go. You’re not crazy.
But why does everyone else think they’re so fucking well-adjusted and normal when they’re just as crazy as you are? That’s what makes this feel so urgent. That’s what makes you feel so manic.
Because it’s very important that they know that they are crazy too, and that they need therapy too, and that the only difference between you and them is that you wear your crazy like a pair of over-sized earrings, and you talk about it, you break it down, you explain all the intricacies, and then everyone thinks, “That one, she’s crazy,” which makes you want to jump up and down and scream until they admit that yes, they are crazy too, but you won’t stop jumping up and down until they tell you that you are ok, until they say that it’s ok, you’re not crazy, you’re ok.
Bet you think I’m insecure because I need that kind reassurance. Bet you’re just a scooch self-righteous for making that assumption about me. Bet you’re own insecurities are just begging for a good therapy session. Bet if you wore your crazy like a pair of over-sized earrings, they’d snap your earlobes.
You’re not more sane than me.
And even if you were, that doesn’t make you better than me.
Right?
Bet it would do me some good to take a vacation from my head.
Show me the best road out of here and I guarantee you, I’ll be the first one on it.
“Cheshire Puss…Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” asked Alice.
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where–” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
So long as I get somewhere, she thought. Where ever it is that Not-Crazy People reside.
Which is not where you live, by the way, in case you were thinking of passing some sort of judgement on me and my craziness.
I am clearly overthinking all of this.
Say something to make it all better. Say something to the effect of, Mela, you are still ok, even if you are crazy, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because everyone’s crazy.
Tell me Mela, it’s ok. You are an ok person. I’m just as crazy as you are.
Tell me, “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here.”
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If I had a freaking quarter for every time I thought this exact same thing, well, let me just say, my therapy would be freaking paid for.
And that’s A LOT of quarters, dude.
Also, you are not crazy.
You, everyone worth knowing, that cat, Alice and I are all crazy.
Plus, Alice may have a substance abuse issue on top of all of this.
Crazy is the new black. Everyone’s wearing it.
Ms Lane- You are just fine. The crazies are those who deny any variance in personality, goals, achievements, or dreams as being real. You know, the sheep of the world. Can’t see outside of the box. Can only go the way the crowd is going. Buy everything that they are lead by advertising to buy. Consumers. Sheep. Crazy.
the most creative people are …original thought and the unique, sort of supercharged, energy source …that go with it scares the hell out of people…F them ..
and messing with my spelling
Can’t say that you are crazy any more than I can say someone who thinks you are crazy is crazy. Crazy is anything that makes us feel uncomfortable. You think people who call you crazy are crazy because they deny their crazy. You think you are crazy yourself. Haircutter thinks conservatism is crazy while conservatism thinks she is crazy. I think the word crazy is crazy. Crazy is an absurd way of saying, “Dude, you make me feel uncomfortable.” I don’t think you are crazy, mainly because I am not responsible for you. You are who you are because you are meant to be. Therefore I feel no need to find discomfort in your philosophies and actions. Its your life. Because I get a kick out of your neurosis, I will call you zany. Zany is fun.
Fiona’s Apple- nice crazy summary.
You wouldn’t know it from anything I’ve posted here, but for some people, I’m someone who is “not crazy.” Or so they tell me. What I tell them is “If you could spend an hour in my head, you would never say that.” They mistake stillness for sanity. But it’s a constant battle against chaos, against over-reactions, freak-outs, and meltdowns. If I was less crazy, I’d have more energy to show how crazy I am, but I spend so much energy maintaining, I don’t have energy left to act out. If we weren’t all crazy, the world wouldn’t be in the shape it’s in. From a wombat president and his enabling woman (Laura or Condi, take your pick) to the saints next door, we all have issues. You’re probably OK, Lane. The fact that you’re at least aware of and making an attempt to deal with your issues makes you more sane than a lot of us, myself included.
The whole world and our existance in it is crazy. We’re just trying to make our way through it. And I’d agree with Fiona’s Apple you’re zany. Kim Yong-Il is crazy. Big difference. Does that make you feel any better? A random guy from the internet who you can only assume is typing this from his mother’s basement in a pair of Aquaman underoos has determined that you are more mentally stable than Kim Yong-Il.
Too much of a good thing can be wonderful. Mae West. Be crazy.
It sounds like a mental health day is in order. You know, calling in well, taking a day to enjoy the beautiful weather, frolic in the daisies, etc. Just picture yourself as Opus frolicking through the meadow.
And spread your joy with the people you work with. Leave them a great message for why you are not coming into work today, like one of these:
Basic: I’m calling in well!
Irreverent: I’m having a vision problem- I just can’t see working today!
Clinical: I have anal glaucoma- I can’t see my ass at work today!
Neurotic: The voices in my head told me to stay home and clean the guns! (also could be NRA or heard at the Post Office)
Find a nice walk to take, a cafe to eat at, a book to read, and a task totally for you that you have been putting off!
you say crazy like it’s a bad thing.