Day 1 of The Stark Raving Sane Blog. Rainbows are OK. As long as they’re all green.
(Yes, I’m the same person that sometimes does the funny blog. But this one isn’t.)
I cry easily.
I used to blush a lot.
At school, I would get into trouble for getting uncontrollable fits of the giggles.
I sometimes lose my temper – lash out, scream.
Sometimes I can’t pick up the phone because I don’t have the courage to speak to people.
Normal people probably don’t cry several times a day.
Almost every day.
I’m crying as I write about crying. That’s how much of a crier I am.
So, you see, I have strong emotional reactions. So strong that some people say I’m crazy.
So I come up with the usual crazy-person justifications;
What if it’s not me? What if our definition of “sane” is too narrow?
So narrow that we stifle everything brilliant and different in ourselves.
So narrow that even justifiable outrage is silenced.
More drugs sold to keep us all in the middle of the spectrum.
As if we’re banning rainbows, unless they’re all green.
Here’s 8 things that made me cry today. I’ll tell you more another day.
- I received a sweet note from the man who is afraid that his son doesn’t love him.
- A mum with a little boy. She had just picked him up from nursery. He was crying. I heard her say, “Did you think Mummy wasn’t going to come back from work today? I will always come back from work to collect you. Silly sausage!” My dad used to call me sausage.
- Tobey reminded me that Sam died 3 years and 6 months ago.
- I congratulated someone on starting a big new job. They wrote back, “Oh Kay, how can I ever forget you! I have been building on those bits of training you gave me continuously all these years. You were one of my first and best teachers to help me get to where I am today.”
- On the street, I passed by the man who dresses like an elegant pirate every day. As we passed each other he said, “Hello, beautiful crazy lady.”
- A man on crutches playing football with his small child.
- My cousin cried as she talked about her mum’s death.
- A woman on the bus told her kids to be quiet. They weren’t really loud. Just little kids. I smiled at her. She spoke to me softly, “I can’t stand it when people say awful things to them.” She was wearing a headscarf. Her little boy came over and hugged her. He kissed her forehead.