My Kind of Crazy

Most people don’t know. Why should they? I don’t know if someone has lupus or diabetes. They are going about their day with the same struggles I endure, just in their own timeline. I don’t know what their pain looks like and I do my best not to judge their reaction to it. It’s the Golden Rule – treat other peoples’ realities with the same respect you want them to show yours. We are all the same.

In my world there is a strict bullshit threshold. I can only take so much from one person before I have to Be Nice or Leave. Self-awareness comes with the risk of being called out. We are all flawed and eventually it gets us in trouble. I embraced my shadow self and found more substance there than my parents ever cultivated. I have learned that being myself is harder than pleasing other people. So far, the benefits vastly outweigh the struggle.

It gets easier. Telling the truth is a tough habit to break once you get rolling. Freeing up all that space in your head that used to care what people think leads to extensive personal growth. Inherently painful, I decided to lean into it. If it’s going to hurt might as well get the most I can out of the pain. Holding the reigns of my fate for the first time, I plunged straight to the heart of my troubles. I asked for help from a therapist. I started taking medication.

 

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