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My best friend used to say that only sane people think they're crazy. Crazy people think they're sane. I always used that to gage whether I was ever off the chart. You know, a lot of us have thought it: maybe I'm insane.
It's crossed my mind more than once. But when I used to talk about what kind of things made me think so, she always told me that wasn't insane because she understood. That necessarily made me normal.
But my best friend hung herself. I still see the picture in my head even if I've never actually seen it. In the last months of her life, she changed and I didn't see. She saw conspiraties everywhere, but I didn't think that was "not normal" because I see conspiracies everywhere too, except I talk myself out of them like I always tried to talk her out of hers. I realise human brains are wired to make everything be about us. That's what consipiracies are: connect all the dots in a straight line to you.
The stuff that makes me feel like I may be insane today is when I think back to two weeks ago and creating a "courtisane" blog. Believing this is my destiny every minute of it. Last week, I told my therapist about it. About this time, I mean. She's heard the story many times over the years. And by the time I tell her, it's already over. I haven't gone through with it in three years.
I guess I have a really powerful will when it comes to stoping myself before some things get too dangerous (if I could do that with cigarettes). Blogging about becoming a courtisane is one thing, but planning to put an ad for the blog in the paper, that's another. In my head, I'd write the most lurring ad. I would get the best of the best clients like I did last time. Last time: 3 years ago. All my problems would all of a sudden go away. The anxiety too, because I'd be doing something I know I'm good at. Don't we all need to feel adequate?
Now you just read that. Tell me that's not insanity.
Yet, if I were insane, I'd think I were sane.
It's crossed my mind more than once. But when I used to talk about what kind of things made me think so, she always told me that wasn't insane because she understood. That necessarily made me normal.
But my best friend hung herself. I still see the picture in my head even if I've never actually seen it. In the last months of her life, she changed and I didn't see. She saw conspiraties everywhere, but I didn't think that was "not normal" because I see conspiracies everywhere too, except I talk myself out of them like I always tried to talk her out of hers. I realise human brains are wired to make everything be about us. That's what consipiracies are: connect all the dots in a straight line to you.
The stuff that makes me feel like I may be insane today is when I think back to two weeks ago and creating a "courtisane" blog. Believing this is my destiny every minute of it. Last week, I told my therapist about it. About this time, I mean. She's heard the story many times over the years. And by the time I tell her, it's already over. I haven't gone through with it in three years.
I guess I have a really powerful will when it comes to stoping myself before some things get too dangerous (if I could do that with cigarettes). Blogging about becoming a courtisane is one thing, but planning to put an ad for the blog in the paper, that's another. In my head, I'd write the most lurring ad. I would get the best of the best clients like I did last time. Last time: 3 years ago. All my problems would all of a sudden go away. The anxiety too, because I'd be doing something I know I'm good at. Don't we all need to feel adequate?
Now you just read that. Tell me that's not insanity.
Yet, if I were insane, I'd think I were sane.
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