In case nobody told you, sometimes things run in families. In our family, all the oldest kids have slight OCD behaviors (thus bringing into question the whole nature versus nurture debate). My daughter is slightly wacky and won't eat chips unless I give her 3, 5 or 15. Really. She just won't. God forbid I give her two of something. She laughingly asks for hand wipes after touching any number of things and washes her hands meticulously. Especially after being in public.
But what happens when something more sinister runs in a family? You see, my dad has never been completely well. We grew up wondering if today was going to be a "lets go get donuts for breakfast and then hit the archery range" sort of day or "hide under the covers, Dr. Jekyl has left the building" day. We liked the first kind, were terrified of the second. I spent the first 16 years of my life on a roller coaster.
I remember getting yelled at occasionally. I probably deserved it most of the time, just like most kids, but I grew up faced with an ever increasing sense of fear that everyone in the world is like him - unbalanced, unsettled... unsafe. So, I work hard to keep the world as safe as I can for Sean and Sara.
When things got hard with their dad and anger was the order of the day, I blocked him, started to insert myself more vocally and physically in his little "moments" and made off with the kids, leaving him to his own devices. Now, when he's playing well with others, he's FUN. But not always.
The worst part of all of this? I think my original fears have somehow been proven correct by a majority of the people I know. I am drawn to the slightly off-center. Maybe too needy or not needy enough. So lacking in self-awareness that they make a certain president of the free world look like Mr. Rodgers.
But do I have to believe that? I have friends and family that LOVE me. Would do anything for me. Think I'm always calm, always in charge, always rational. They laugh with me and cry with me and love my kids fiercely.
Is crazy contagious? Is it something to be avoided, like I always did with Dad, or embraced, the way my daughter embraces her anxiety disorder, proudly displays her anxious moments with a loud "hey, I'm anxious!!" and shows the world that yes, she's scared, but no, that won't stop her. Do we get to pick our crazy?
If I have to pick, I want to be like Sara today.
It's because you're a compassionate person who actually listens that people go all needy on you. Same thing with me...oh yeah, our boobs probably don't hurt either ;)
ReplyDeleteI have to say I admire your strength and sense of will - you are there for friends 24/7, but also strong enough to say, "Get the fuck away from me!" when someone threatens to suck the life out of you.
See you for cake...