A Little Bit Crazy

I often hear it said that there is no such thing as a little bit. In the sense that you can't be a little bit fat, or kinda' gay, a tad bit hideous or a little bit of a psychopath.

However I strongly believe that you CAN be a little bit crazy. In fact, as life progresses I gain daily evidence that supports that we are all a bit nutty. That those freakish normal people that show no cracks-underneath it all are the craziest of all and if you know one, I strongly recommend sleeping with one eye open and at least a stiletto under your pillow. One day they will feel the pain, smell the stench of loneliness or get knocked down by regret or loss and they will fall to pieces. So much better to let the crazy in in bits-so you can take it as it comes. Too much to take on all at once.

Alright, so I am speaking "crazy" from experience...while everyone is a little off their rocker...I am tottering on the edge- trying to maintain my balance. I say this whimsically of course...I take my insanity lightly. There are no voices in my head. Only a few skeletons in my closet (metaphorically of course).

However- I came into this world with a big scarlet , pounding heart on my sleeve. Not a whole lot I can do about it. Sometimes the beating of that heart fills my ears and takes over my brain. When it doesn't expand so that I can see nothing else in front of me, it makes me a slave to its desires, needs and appetites. My mouth is forever protecting and defending my heart-sort of a protective big sister if you will. My eyes clean it with its tears when it is injured flooding over it in torrents...that are difficult to dam in once the flooding starts. The three of them have developed a sort of dysfunctional union. Blood sisters in the truest sense. And when somebody bumps, bruises or cuts my heart (which is unfortunately easy to do) it- it gushes all over my new black boots and stains the Violator as well.

Passionate, impulsive-predictably unpredictable...It is what it is. And sometimes it makes a mess of things. Including relationships. That is my brand of crazy. Now you know. It chose me. I don't excuse it or use it to excuse me...it is just one of those wisdoms you gain in life. Part self awareness and acceptance and part preventative measure and self preservation.

A long time ago, I read the novel "Girl Interrupted" and one of the themes in the novel is the idea that "Mental Health" is subjective. Because at various points in this messy, backward, dangerous, gloriously beautiful and poignantly memorable journey we complete in life we are all damaged-often irreparably. And if we were to be pulled over by the Crazy Police at these specific junctures of our voyage...we would all be deemed "unstable or crazy". So if we ALL have a fragile grasp on sanity- who is to Judge?

Think we have established that it is not me...

What brand of crazy are you?