A different level of crazy

I am crazy in ways that even I myself don’t understand. Have you ever been in a tug of war with your other self?

I came to a decision over something and then in another moment I change my mind.  I think I have loved and wonder if that was just hate masked in civility. I thought I was feeling mutinous and then afterwards thinks that maybe I was just annoyed. One moment I’m crying, thinking of all the pain and hopelessness of my situation and then later thinks of plans on how I can make things better.

I don’t understand myself most times. I often analyze and think deeply of what I actually feel and not just the surface reaction to present circumstances. In there, I am almost always surprised. Because what I always find is that, my surface reactions are often too superficial.

I have a very active imagination. I can draw things in my mind, sequencing little events, gathering them and finding a scheme out of all of it. There should be job out there that fits this kind of brain (a job in hunting serial killers, perhaps?). The problem with this kind of brain is when I get too caught up in my imagination that it interferes with my perception of reality, of what is actually happening. Those closest to me become victims of my eccentric imaginings and it often disappoints them or hurts them. It is a big problem. So I’m thinking I should just write out my imaginations but I would risk exposing how my delicate, verging on crazy, mind works. That’s not good.

So what am I saying here? Nothing.

I am crazy on a different level. I would want to analyze myself and see if I can cure whatever is in here (finger pointing to my head). But I realize that I do not have to understand myself all the time. I have crazies, that’s a given. But who hasn’t? I am probably under the category of people whose emotional development have been arrested but whose interpersonal capacity was not affected by it. I think that would be fine by me. I want to try to stop analyzing myself and let go of whatever crazies I have without fear of being self-reprimanded.

We are most critical with ourselves. We are our worst enemies. If I keep battling with myself, I might lose touch with everything else in my life because I am too self-critical. I want to give myself the acceptance that I so wanted from others, not realizing that it is me who has not come to terms with who I am.  I have a different level of crazy. Different from everyone else, unique in some ways, but crazy nonetheless. And I am on the road to accepting that.