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Do crazy people know they’re crazy?

The answer is; yes. We do.

I’ve been asked this questions many times and the answer is always the same. Those of us who have been diagnosed or, in my case, misdiagnosed with a mental illness know that the things we say or do are not the kinds of things that normal people say or do. People Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) know that flicking the light on and off a dozen times is unique to them. However, there is absolutely nothing we can do to stop the crazy. It’s an itch that absolutely has to be scratched or the world will come to a screeching halt and everything will go flying into space and explode.

I recently explained it to a friend this way; there are two halves to my brain. One half is a mature, well-developed, intelligent, logical, thinking person. This half makes good decisions and interacts with people well. This half is well-liked and is a good conversationalist. The other half is a temperamental three-year old. This half throws temper tantrums, holds its breath, kicks, screams, shows up at my bedside at 3am with a butcher knife and laughs demoniacally. This half demands attention, is extremely insecure and highly unbalanced. Usually I’m able to beat this half into submission and lock it in a closet. However, the little brat has a key and gets out when I’m least expecting it. It’s then I find boiled bunnies and such. This half scares the hell out of me sometimes, but so long as I can toss it in the closet and ignore it, I’m fine.

My friends all understand this part of me and help me get the little bastard back in its place. It’s a little like living with Damien sometimes. This is my life and I’m learning to live it. I know this part will make its appearance during times of stress so I try to keep my stress to a minimum.

It’s because I understand my own brain so well and how it works that crazy people don’t really bother me. They’re content to play in that section of their head that best interacts with the world. Sometimes you can get some really interesting ideas from crazy people like sitting on a park bench and singing, off-key, at the top of your lungs. It’s a lot of fun and if you do it in the summer, people will give you money.

No. Crazy people don’t really bother me. Normal people, on the other hand, freak me out.

Technically, my sister is a normal people. She scares me. She lives in one of those architecturally controlled neighbourhoods where every third house is the same one. It’s a boxy little neighbourhood with boxy little houses and boxy little people driving boxy little cars leading boxy little lives. How on earth do people live there and not get the urge to spray paint graffiti on the neighbour’s cat? The only saving grace to this place is a small pond where ducks and other birds make their nests in spring and winter. Of course, mosquitoes love the place, too, but the ducks are really cute. Needless to say, the three or four hours a week I’m forced to spend in this area on the pretense of family dinner are enough to scare the crap out of me.

Another thing that bothers me that normal people do is displaying pregnant bellies. Apparently there are men out there who are sexually attracted to pregnant women. Why? Leave them alone. That’s how they got like that in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that other women are willing to have babies. If it were dependant on people like me, the human race would die out. Quickly. I’m one of the few women (I know a couple of others) who look at pregnant women and think “Alien”. Sorry, but the thought of something alive inside me just gives me the heebie jeebies. I don’t think it’s a lot to ask that you cover that thing up. I’m not asking for burqas, here but please don’t don the string bikinis. Okay, if you’re pregnant and want to wear a burqa, I’m good with that.

Oh and let’s talk about normal women and their ideas on relationships. If you remember the book “The Rules” and the messed up advice it gave you’ll understand what I’m talking about. I figure I have to be crazy because I just don’t have the time or energy to invest in the games that many normal women play.

I went with my friend to see the movie “Ted” and had a great time but it made me angry. The lead female character, Lori Collins (Mila Kunis) decides that John Bennett (Mark Wahlberg) needs to grow up and get rid of Ted. Wait a minute. In the movie she’s been in this relationship with this man for four years!! She knew about Ted the minute she met him. She’s been around the bear for four freaking years!! Now, all of a sudden, she wants him to get rid of that part of his life that helps define who he is? I was angry.

According to my friend, it’s normal for their women to want them to “grow up”. Okay. I get that. Adults take responsibility and move forward in their lives. That’s fine. That’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about a fundamental relationship in this man’s life that has helped to define him as a person. My friend says that women do this all the time. They fall in love with a guy, the bad boy for example, and then try to change him. Why? Then, when they change the guy to what they want, they get bored and dump them or, worse yet, marry them. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I’m not in a committed relationship now.

Normal people engage in all kinds of dramas and bullshit that really doesn’t need to happen. Office politics is a wonderful example of this. People butting their noses into other people’s business where it doesn’t belong. How about those play groups where parents bring their kids to socialize them to other humans (I think that’s the purpose of them)? I’ve heard of this parent or that parent talking crap about others in the group and creating drama. It goes on all the time. Here’s some advice from the Krazy Korner; STOP IT. If it doesn’t concern you, if it isn’t harmful or detrimental, then just shut up.

I’ve come to the conclusion that normal people are weird. Crazy I get. The elves have invited you to their tea party and that’s why you’re dancing down the main street downtown. Heck, I’ll even join in and dance with you for a bit. We can ignore all the normal people who laugh at us and drink elven tea and dance.


I have never had children by choice. I’m not much of a mommy person and pregnancy kind of freaks me out (more on that on another blog). More to the point, I’ve never had men stick around in my life long enough to become daddies to any mini-mes I may have. I believe that men do have a responsibility to the children they bring in this world, but back in the 80s, when I would have been having children, it was a very different reality. I made the decision not to have any children unless I could adequately provide for them as a single mother with no help from the father.

Let me explain. If I’d had children and the father stuck around and was a good daddy, that’s great but anything could happen. Cancer, death, abduction by aliens, anything. For any number of reasons the father might be removed from the picture and, as the mother, it was up to me to provide for my child alone. I never felt like I could do that.

In 1988, the abortion laws in Canada were deemed unconstitutional and they were struck down in R. v. Morgentaler thus allowing women to terminate pregnancies with greater freedom. A woman does not have to consult the father or even let him know she is getting one. She can simply terminate the pregnancy and be on her way. I am in full support of allowing women to have the freedom to choose what happens with their bodies. I think that allowing women to terminate pregnancies without fear of reprisal is important. I do not agree with the pro-lifers who say that a woman has to carry a child through to delivery. However, women, freedom comes with a price.

If women want the freedom to terminate their pregnancies then they must take responsibility for those pregnancies. It is not viable to put all the responsibility on men. How many times has the line “he got her pregnant” been uttered? Why isn’t it, “they got her pregnant”? Women, you want the freedom to choose over your own bodies, well fine. The choice starts long before you ever walk into the clinic.

Personally, I am tired of women repeatedly having babies and  then society beating up the men for it. I know of women whose chosen partner has multiple children in the world (one man had fathered 10 children) and having more children with that man. In these cases the men have proven they’re not responsible and aren’t going to be a father to yet another brood of children. Don’t believe me?  Go talk to their babies’ mamas. Yet, in some sort of reproduction frenzy, these women will have multiple children with them then act surprised when he takes off to spread his seed elsewhere. Wake up, ladies, this wasn’t a shock to anyone but you.

Then what do the majority of these women do? They need to provide for their children, right? So, off to the welfare offices where you and I get to pay for these children. Wait a minute. I said I didn’t want children and now I have to pay for someone else’s child because they’re too stupid to take birth control or use a condom? How is that fair?

Women, if you want the freedom of choice for your bodies without the fathers being able to have any say, then you have to take responsibility for that freedom. If you bring a child into this world, understand that anything can happen to make you a single parent. Before you get pregnant ask yourself; am I prepared to raise this child as a single mother emotionally, psychologically and financially (physically)? If the answer is no or hemming and hawing, use a condom or get on birth control. There are far too many children brought into the world where the parents are unable to care for them. Don’t shuffle the blame off to the men. You wanted autonomy over your body, you got it.

July 2018
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