Yeah, I told you I'm crazy.
Like, good things can't just happen to me. The universe must be prepping me to die. That is the only acceptable excuse for not having anyone actively hating me right now, or for not having loose ends with my family, or for people thinking I'm a positive addition to their lives. It's so that I can have a funeral where people actually come. People like me, because I am going to die.
This is so sick. And yet, I'm not even close to being done with the Crazy part yet.
Because a couple of days ago, my friend Katy did a spotlight on me on her blog, and you know what it felt like? It felt like I was writing my own eulogy. No really. It did. And when she asked me to send her pictures of myself she could post on her blog, it felt a little bit like I was looking through all my pictures for ones that would someday also go in the Slideshow of My Life. You know, the one that's set to Here Comes the Sun or In My Life, and it ends with my name is white letters on a black screen, with two dates underneath it in slightly smaller font, and it makes my mom cry?
Shuddering right now. At my craziness. I am afraid of how wrong this is.
This is maybe the certifiable kind of crazy, right? The kind where people scoot over a little if you sit too close to them on the bus?
I think it MUST be okay that people could like me, and it wouldn't HAVE to be just because the Universe thinks it would be nice to fill the back row pews. I'm a likable person.
Things that make me likable:
-I can laugh at myself
-I make other people laugh
-I have a lot of empathy
-I care about the earth and the plants, animals, and people who live on it
-I face the toilet paper the right way
-I'm a good mom to my kids
-I help others when I see they need it
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Yeah, I feel like if I continue with this list, I will only be giving you people material for my memorial. Also, talking too much about how awesome I am makes me feel kind of icky.
So okay, this blog post will go down in my history as the weirdest thing I've told the general public about myself. And also maybe the dumbest thing I've ever said. But I'm going to post it anyway, because that's the kind of thing I do.
And also it might make some people think less of me, which, at this point, could be exactly what I need.
5 comments:
You're not crazy, you just think you are because no one ever admits to having these kinds of thoughts. OK, maybe i'm not the best one to tell you you're not crazy because about 60% of the time I feel I have not normal thoughts. For instance. Just this morning Scott asked me to change the litter box before I left for work. Well this is his "job" but he was running late and asked me to do it. I didn't want to because then I would potentially be late and not have time to eat breakfast. (I time my getting ready process down to the milisecond) So I may have said in a pissed off way... ok, I'll do it. To which he responded, no I'll do it. We went back and fourth and I was like, no seriously I'll do it. It's ok. He was upset and frustrated and rightfully so. He never asks me to do the litter box for him, so this one time should have not sent me over the edge. But here's where the crazy kicks in (stay with me.) I got paranoid that he would get in some car crash on the way to work and our last convorsation would be how I was upset at him and so I ran down the stairs to catch him and try to mend the little tiff. It didn't go over too well. Something like "I'm Fine" but I knew he wasn't fine. So basically I get paranoid about Scott dying. Like, more than normal. I acknowledge that it's not the healthiest thing in the world, but it's hard to shut it off. So in short (or long) I feel you. Maybe you are a little nuts, but at least know that most people are.
So now that you realize how great your life is do you start trying to find things that aren't perfect to reassure yourself that you won't be dying soon? Just keep holding on to that favorite character flaw or grudge and you'll be sure to stick around for a while. At least that's what I tell myself.
You are so awesome. God I love these blogs.
xoxo
PS. Never stop leaving long comments. They rock.
I think about my own death every day, and the happier things are going in my life the more tragic my imagined funeral is. I've even gotten teary playing with my son some days, thinking how he won't really remember me if I die of [insert one of a million random possibilities] tonight. So...you're not alone!
I love that we are going to have the biggest party in the looney bin.
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