My Particular Brand Of Crazy Further Defined, And More On Why I Don't Wanna Be
Questionable judgment with boys. I consider that the hallmark of my crazy, mainly. I didn't go on the meds because of questionable judgment or erratic behaviour where boys are concerned, I went on them because (as many of you will vividly recall) I started crying and couldn't stop, after 6 months of holding myself together and being everything to everyone while enduring several oceans of pressure bearing down on me.
But, the whole thing that happened with Boy Number One continues to weigh on me. It was awkward and ugly and awful, and yes, he behaved horribly, and I have already covered at length why that was All My Fault.
I have been taken advantage of many, many times, and accepted treatment that was less than caring and respectful. And invariably, it was all my fault, because I was acting crazy, and asking for it. Or I was vulnerable to being taken advantage of because I was too unstable to know what I wanted. Or I did know what I wanted, and more to the point what I did not want, and said so, but I wasn't listened to, and when I objected, however vociferously (or not), it's just that I was crazy, and misunderstanding, or misremembering the way things went down. Yep. A thousand different ways all the times I was abused or taken advantage of were all because: I. Am. Crazy.
Really, none of this should have anything whatsoever to do with the chemical imbalance in my brain that caused me to start crying and be unable to stop. Except, I suppose, in the sense that my stress response mechanisms are fried as a result of living in a chronic state of fight or flight for years on end. And there is a certain amount of post traumatic stress that makes me kinda flinchy, in some conditions. I carry fear in my body like bruises. For the most part, I cope very well with all of these things nowadays, and usually, even when stress and anxiety rise, I know how to flow with it and stay functional. I lost my grip in december because I'd been asked to cope with Too Fucking Much For Too Fucking Long, and I knew it was going to happen, and I said so, and I was ignored.
The point is, none of this should call my judgment into question. And yet, it does. I am not now nor have I ever been crazy. But I have had that label applied so many times to discredit me, or make me question myself, and I have bought it a time or two, and my insecurities are buying into it right now and that is just stupid.
But, the whole thing that happened with Boy Number One continues to weigh on me. It was awkward and ugly and awful, and yes, he behaved horribly, and I have already covered at length why that was All My Fault.
I have been taken advantage of many, many times, and accepted treatment that was less than caring and respectful. And invariably, it was all my fault, because I was acting crazy, and asking for it. Or I was vulnerable to being taken advantage of because I was too unstable to know what I wanted. Or I did know what I wanted, and more to the point what I did not want, and said so, but I wasn't listened to, and when I objected, however vociferously (or not), it's just that I was crazy, and misunderstanding, or misremembering the way things went down. Yep. A thousand different ways all the times I was abused or taken advantage of were all because: I. Am. Crazy.
Really, none of this should have anything whatsoever to do with the chemical imbalance in my brain that caused me to start crying and be unable to stop. Except, I suppose, in the sense that my stress response mechanisms are fried as a result of living in a chronic state of fight or flight for years on end. And there is a certain amount of post traumatic stress that makes me kinda flinchy, in some conditions. I carry fear in my body like bruises. For the most part, I cope very well with all of these things nowadays, and usually, even when stress and anxiety rise, I know how to flow with it and stay functional. I lost my grip in december because I'd been asked to cope with Too Fucking Much For Too Fucking Long, and I knew it was going to happen, and I said so, and I was ignored.
The point is, none of this should call my judgment into question. And yet, it does. I am not now nor have I ever been crazy. But I have had that label applied so many times to discredit me, or make me question myself, and I have bought it a time or two, and my insecurities are buying into it right now and that is just stupid.