Vigilance

I try.

I try to be a good person.  I try to give way, on the sidewalk, in the road, in line for groceries or stamps. I try to smile, and be kind to people. I try to be honest, even when that’s difficult. I think it’s important. I try to be rational. When I feel very strongly that I am entirely in the right, I know that I must not be. I try to figure out how I might be at fault, how I might stand in the other person’s shoes and see how what I’ve done, or not done, how I could have contributed to the problems between us. I try to set my emotions aside, and remember that no matter how angry I am, some things are more important than being right. Or feeling right.

But I won’t lie here: it’s not easy. I like being right as much as anyone does, and maybe more so. I’ve been told over the years that I am “competitive,” and “aggressive,” and “harsh,” and sometimes I feel like the people around me are unjustifiably afraid of me, or afraid of what I might do, or say. And their fear? It feels like judgment, and it makes me angry.

And then I do slip, and say something that I regret as soon as it’s out of my mouth—or worse, say something I think is perfectly appropriate until someone checks me. And then that fear I mentioned? It feels like judgment and it makes me really, deeply, unsure of myself.  Which I don’t like. And which pisses me off.

I wonder, then, am I mean, and I don’t even know it? That in spite of all my trying to be good, and live right, and do good even when it costs me—in money, time, or pride—that maybe I’m just delusional. Maybe I just hold onto superficial nice things I do, or say, or think as evidence that I’m a good person. But in reality—some indefinable something that everybody but me can see—I’m really just a stone-cold bitch.

It shuts me down. Makes it hard to think, hard to write, hard to talk.

You want to know a secret? Mental illness runs in my family. My grandmother had breakdowns, more than one. At least two of my great uncles killed themselves; and in my parent’s generation at least two more suicides—that I know of. And although suicidal isn’t my problem (I have others) I worry about going crazy. Specifically, that I might go crazy and not be able to stop it, or not be able to recognize that it’s happening to me.

Or sometimes I worry that I might already be crazy. Because that’s the way it happens, right? From inside your own head you can’t tell. You think what you’re doing makes perfect sense.

Comments

[Deb Abramson]

"Even though we're total strangers, I feel like we were separated at birth." :-)

Seriously, though, I say inappropriate things all the time. I'm insanely competitive. I HAVE to be right. I'm brutally honest when honesty isn't what's really required. I've been told I'm mean. And just yesterday, I was wondering aloud whether I'm living in my own reality bubble unaware.

But you must know that if you're wondering about whether you're crazy, it means you're not. And the fact that you wrote this post makes it clear that you're trying and reflecting and searching; those are some things mean people just don't do.

Life is a challenge--often, if not always. I hope you feel better soon.

[euphrosyne1115]

We ought to have trading cards. "I'll give you one electroshocked suicidal grandfather for two secretly alcoholic great-aunts and one pedophile uncle by marriage." "Do you have any incestuous cousins? Or closeted OCD cases?"

As for crazy, one of the classic symptoms of the Big P(anic disorder) is being convinced that you're nuts, no matter how many good decisions you make, no matter how rational you feel like you think you probably might be. Maybe. The most liberating moment of my life was realizing that I am fucked up, but not nuts. Which puts me waayyyyy ahead of the genetic odds here.

And I'm going over right now to post about mean.

[Pollyanna Sunshine]

Oh, I've got a lovely set of genetic trading cards to play with, too. And I agree that thinking you're crazy is a pretty good sign you're not crazy.

And you are SO not a stone-cold bitch. Nobody's perfect, and we all say and do things we regret, but there is all kinds of good in you and plenty of people can see it perfectly clearly.

[euphrosyne1115]

Now I want to change my blog name to Stone Cold Bitch. And get some kind of funky theme music.

[LD]

Crazy? No such luck my friend, no such luck. You're going to have to stick it out and keep working, keep trying and remember to laugh a lot and love a lot while you're at it.

xoxo
LD