how to be crazy.

Stigma, it's a bitch.

While I have a love/hate relationship with the healthcare system's way of managing mental illness, I have to say, lots of therapy and pinpointing (diagnosing) my issues has opened my eyes over the past three years. Yes, three years. It is, and will likely be a part of my life forever. As for the medicine, hopefully not. Today, I am relatively stable in and unstable world. And why is the world unstable? Because it is filled with mentally ill people that either refuse treatment, or don't know how to find it. Or just plain can't afford it. Hell, I can't afford it. Whatever. Generic mac and cheese is fine with me.

Back to stigma. Are we really "ill?" I would argue that in most cases we are not. We may be in a state of dis-ease. And who could blame anyone. I go to work. It triggers many chemicals that have no place showing up in the middle of my work day. But adrenaline runs high when the people around you take themselves so seriously, that if you haven't completed a task it is, in fact, the end of the fucking world. My (healthy) response is, "We aren't in an emergency room saving lives.We are drafting a budget to run a program, that if it does not run, people will not die. We would simply have to give back the money. Worst. Case. Scenario."

All that said, because someone has convinced my nervous system that it is the end of the world, I have too much adrenaline pulsing through my veins. Nowhere to go but down. But this is fine for all of the mentally fit, I suppose. For me and my generalized anxiety disorder, things are a little more complicated. And besides adrenaline, a shit-ton of hormones and other chemicals find their way into my body, which is really just a recipe for disaster. O.K., so not a disaster. Just a panic attack. Let me piece together the panic attack for you. It is the fucking end of the world. I am sure that I will die, because if a person can't breathe they die. If I can breathe, but my heart is beating 150 bpm, I am sure that I will have a heart attack. I tell myself that is fine, but it won't be. Because the biggest fear is that no one will help you if you are dying. Yet, I am not crazy. Nor am I ill. I am just a person that is highly affected by the stressors and difficulties I encounter in my daily life. Apparently, most other people are not. Who knew?

But this isn't even my problem today. Thanks to the past three years, all of the above is more manageable. I smoke too much, but so be it. I would still like to quit, and I haven't, which makes me incredibly sad some days. However, I don't have depression. What I have is a normal reaction to being frustrated that a carcinogenic drug has a grip on my life and my future. Even to the sane, this must be reasonable.

Moving on. I have made many, many mistakes in my life. Most of them were small. A few of them were very large, and made me very sorry for a long time. Today is the day that I must let go of that sorrow, because it can no longer help me be a better person. Instead it is dragging me down, and convincing me that somehow I am a lesser person. Today is the day that I must tell myself that I am not inhuman. I am not subhuman. That I do really have a do no harm attitude. I have been quiet, if not amputated of my voice, somehow thinking I could prevent damage, present or future. This has proved to be untrue, and an unhealthy assumption. The truth is that I am filled with love for my past, some regret for losing sight of the path I could have followed, and yet I am also filled with love and excitement for my present and future. This doesn't seem crazy to me. It seems healthy. That said, having carried the guilt for two for too long, I feel it's time I speak. Not about the past, but about the fact that good, crazy people, do crazy things sometimes. Secondly, about the fact that if you keep calling people crazy, or bad, or anything else the like, they will always be that to you. But it doesn't change their true heart. My true heart.

I have heard from various sources that many references to my name have been made with regard to how crazy I am (or, according to me and a small handful of dear friends, am not). I will speak to this only once, because you see, none of you are the first. I look different. I have looked different since birth. I have been and will be passionate about things that I believe in. To the point of ridicule. Starting in the first grade. So my experience with "crazy" is wide and varied. I'm crazy and smart enough to know that I will never, ever master it. I will however, vow to refine it in such a way that I lead my life in a way that becomes me, and at the same time helps the people I love, end even sometimes, the ones I can't or don't. Let me tell you, that last number is very low.

So at long last, here is my list of rules for being crazy. I think you'll find they aren't so crazy, after all.

DO:

• Be there for your friends no matter what the hour. Three in the morning is a good time to be crazy.
• Laugh at yourself when you do something like say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Hope that it's actually the wrong thing at the right time. Crazy people have difficulty discerning proper timing (see above).
• Should you make a mistake, forgive yourself as soon as possible. Crazy people know remorse more than anyone. Often enough they are living in their own prison. 
• Be kind, even when it's difficult. It's better to be good crazy than bad crazy.
• Don't be afraid to speak your mind when necessary. All bottles with too much pressure WILL explode. Too much pressure is a crazy person's worst enemy.
• Find reasons to be happy. If you are crazy, you will be insanely happy. On the converse, allow yourself to be sad, but don't seek out sadness in your daily life. If you are crazy, and you do this, you will also be insanely sad.
• Let go. By all fucking means, let go. Not of reality or self-control. Let go of that which you cannot control. It feels like you're floating if you do it right. Crazy, huh?
• Be a loose cannon. As in, make people laugh, jump in a lake with your clothes on, try new things...you know, a loose fucking cannon.  

DON'T

• Rely on a list of don'ts to tell you how to be crazy. Anything goes, so long as you're doing good. 

And last, but not least: