Told Ya So

The road to hell and all that. So, here we are, the day after the day of the placeholder and I am just now getting around to writing another blog.

Do you know Hyperbole and a Half? She's brilliant. And I don't mean that lightly. I mean she is fucking brilliant. She's droll and funny and insightful and sad and talented in a way most of us only dream of. Part of me is urging you to click that link. (Click it...Click It! CLICK IT!!!!!) but part of me is urging you not to. At least not until you are settled in somewhere you don't have to leave, don't have any obligations, preferably do have your favorite warm winter beverage, and can stay put and read until you've every page of her work. Because that's what you're going to do anyway, so you might as well be comfortable and not have the world knocking on your door because you were supposed to be in that meeting an hour ago (or pick up the kids or feed the cat or donate that kidney).

A while ago, I was chatting with a friend about the images we put forth and the facades we keep up. She asked what would happen if we all just blogged about the shit we were really going through. Just let our crazy out and wore it proudly. Or at least didn't hide it in shame. Because whenever we trusted someone with our crazy, the response was always good. Was always along the lines of OMG I HAVE CRAZY TOO! Even if the crazy was different. I have thought about that conversation off and on ever since we had it. I finally have part of an answer.

First, let's be honest, people are judgmental as hell. Our crazy is different than their crazy. Our crazy isn't actually crazy. Our crazy can be rationalized or justified or explained. We don't leave the job or make the change or break up with the jerk or we do ignore our kids or take another drink or sleep with the wrong person for reasons. They, on the other hand, don't leave the job or make the change or break up with the jerk, or they do ignore their kids or take another drink or sleep with the wrong person because they just can't handle it. They aren't strong/sane/healthy/whatever enough; we are but - reasons.

But I've known this shit for a long time. Even back when my friend and I first had this conversation, this was the reason we locked on to for keeping our damn mouths shut sometimes.

There is a new reason. Or an old reason, but I'm just getting it. You share your crazy, and you get this:

It becomes a BIG DEAL. For EVERYBODY. Not just the people it's kind of allowed to be a big deal for. EVERYBODY. And suddenly you're offering juice and reassuring people you're not actually all that crazy and you're sure the crazy will go away and you really are taking care of the crazy and...can you get them some juice?

So, instead of dealing with this, you learn to deal with your crazy quietly, trust your crazy to a very small handful of people, and let the rest of the world think everything is fine and dandy ~ or at least not crazy ~ because, really, there's just not enough juice in the world.

Plus, I really like my new therapist.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.