Site icon Cara Thereon

Call Me Crazy

I was reading an article earlier in my feeble attempts to help myself get up and ready for work. It was actually pretty thought provoking, something I’m not always big on at 5:20 am.

A Message to Women From a Man: You Are Not “Crazy”

The points contained within deal with society, men, and how women’s emotionalness is manipulated and labeled as crazy. It’s something we all do, gaslight is the term used in the article. (This is my interpretation influenced by fatigue so do yourself a favor and read the article then come back to finish this post.)

It made me think about myself in relationship to this… Relationship I’m in right now. Notice my hesitation to call it that though by definition it is exactly that. Regardless, I was having a moment yesterday, one I labeled as crazy, and reading that article made me wonder why I’m quick to call my emotional moments irrational. Crazy.

In essence, when I’m getting to know someone, I like constant communication. If I haven’t heard from you in a certain amount time without an explanation for why, I get worried. Maybe it is crazy, but I couldn’t help my anxiety. I was/am being overly emotional, or insecure, or whatever else. Rationally, I could say the lack of regular communication is par for the course. It was that way before we managed to meet, but now I’m emotionally vested in our interaction so I read more into it without even trying.

The funny thing is I mentioned my worrying to my friend Bug and the first thing I said was, “I’m being crazy right now.” Why did I automatically say that? Are my feelings, my thoughts, really crazy?

It’s hard at this point to determine that. I’ve been conditioned to believe it. Relationships/male-female interactions turn me into this strange creature so I have a hard time believing otherwise about myself.

All I know is I’m thinking about him, I like our conversations, so one text or email exchange isn’t going to be enough. Yes, I heard from him once, but I want more than once and I have a hard time believing that my thinking isn’t crazy. He tells me not to hide, to relax when I’m with him, but that’s hard for me. I equate a lack of communication as a lack of interest because that’s how it’s been used against me in the past.

Long story short: I like him way too much and that makes me feel crazy.

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