LJ Idol: Exhibit A, Post #1 - Odes to the Eiffel Tower underneath my red skirt.

[momebie]

Am I crazy? Indubitably. There, this is going to be the easiest prompt of the whole competition!

I feel that, without a doubt, I am most certainly a crazy person. This opinion of myself though, is often met with resistance by the people around me. (As are many of my opinions about myself, such as the ones pertaining to my looks or my social skills or which Hogwarts house I'm in, but that's a whole other post.) Crazy is, it seems, not as crazy does. Instead, crazy is as crazy is perceived, and everyone's measure is different. So what is it that makes me crazy and why is it that we can't agree on a set identifier?

The term crazy gets a bad rap in the current online social community, for good reason. It's a dismissive catch-all term that lacks as much in precision as it does in empathy. What we call crazy are the thoughts and behaviors in others which we don't understand. The people on Hoarders, for instance, or the two women who are married to the Berlin wall. They are crazy. There is something identifiably deviant about these people when measured against the accepted social markers. They become too attached to things we don't think a person should be attached to, for starters.

This is where crazy gets slippery, because often those people don't think that they're crazy. It feels right to them to create these attachments. It would almost be crazier to deny the heart what it wants, which I think is a sentiment a lot of us can agree with when it's targeted toward other people or really nice shoes. Their neurological makeup does not understand why a person shouldn't fall in love with the Berlin wall, it merely does.

This line of thinking brings us back around to me and my brain, which feels guilty and awkward and deviant for the things that happen in it all of the time. Sunday I had a panic attack over the smell of a stranger's cologne. It triggered a negative response to a specific memory and my body reacted physically as if it was still in that situation. That made me feel crazy. It was a reaction which I mentally identified as being deviant when related to my current physical state of safety. I mean, other people don't stop breathing as they're leaving movie theaters. The Last Stand wasn't good, but it wasn't so bad it robbed me of life.

When I voiced concern over my reaction in relation to my mental state, several people who know me assured me that I wasn't crazy, that I'm still not, because they could identify with my reaction. It wasn't deviant. I'm not crazy because they understand me, and they're not crazy. This attitude, of course, does not take into account my personal discomfort with my own mind, which is really what makes most of us feel crazy when we do.

What about the people then who don't feel uncomfortable with who they are, but who make us uncomfortable? Much like in Catch-22, if you can identify that you might be insane, then you are sane enough to hide it and perform your duties. You think you're crazy, so you can't possible be crazy. Congratulations! But that is little comfort to the people still fighting the battles they disagree with and who want nothing more than to escape from them.

So, am I crazy? I still think so. I want to believe it's unnatural to feel at odds with the simple facts of who you are on a daily basis, but the truth is it's not. This pervasive cultural discomfort makes finding a corroborating diagnosis of insanity difficult, regardless of your symptoms. Unless you fall in love with the Berlin wall, in which case, keep that nonsense over there, thanks.


This post was written in response to therealljidol Exhibit A, Week One Topic: Am I Crazy? Concrit and comments are welcome.

Comments

[momebie.livejournal.com]

Ahaha, you know, I went back and forth with myself over whether to leave that as the title, since I don't mention that particular woman. Sometimes the associations for titles sit squarely in the no man's land of my brain and I'm the only person who can get to them.

But! That special I watched with the two women who were married to the Berlin Wall also had a woman in it who was in love with the Eiffel Tower, and they filmed her straddling one of the metal beams and proudly telling the camera that she wasn't wearing any panties and then moving a bit against it. So, you know, in case you were wondering if you could get off with the Eiffel Tower, you can!

I feel like at its core it has to be a subjective measure. The concept of crazy might not even make sense when held up to an objective standard. Like, most objective standards would measure that I am but not how I am, and those are important distinctions for societal groups. Even when it's just surface things like how much I weigh or what kind of music I listen to.

[comedychick.livejournal.com]

Now it makes more sense, at least. XD And my eyes are like o.O for that woman.

[momebie.livejournal.com]

Dude, my eyes were like that the whole episode. There was another woman who was in love with an abandoned theme park ride and they showed her crawling under it and kissing it. How I felt about that made me stop and reexamine my thought processes, because while I am also deeply uncomfortable watching people kiss other people in public like that, I think I was more squicked by the different-ness of it than the kissing.

[comedychick.livejournal.com]

OH LORD! I wonder how they managed to get these people to agree to be on the show? Do they know people would be watching to see them as freaks or do they think it's an opportunity to show people how that sort of thing should be seen as "normal"?