Crazy is Contagious

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I’ve learned that some mental illness can germinate in the refusal to take responsibility for one’s own actions. That boundaries aren’t in the realm of the mentally ill, and blame is the go-to, with never uttering an apology.

It took me a long time, with much reflection, to navigate beyond the negative misogynistic aspects of a religious upbringing. Insecurities with a need to please, not knowing when enough is enough, and sometimes we simply can’t fix it, or have the means to help someone we Love. Why should we be the ones to fix it, or go into emotional and financial debt. The black hole will never be filled. What kind of ego or guilt takes over our own reason, often times resulting in neglect of self.

The disfunction is all around us; A restaurant manager who says out loud in public earshot, “watch me make a hostess cry”. To sexually harassesing a waitress by cornering her, feeling her breast under her shirt in front of his drunk friends at the close of the night. Or, impacting an entire staff’s income by scheduling the best table section preference to the food server he is currently dating.

The solipsist, void of boundaries, neighbor, who simply doesn’t get-it, inflicting decades of sanctimonious harassment.

A tyrannical manager who announces to his assistant, “it’s your fault”, for whatever personal task was demanded, and the professional project didn’t meet deadline.

The spouse who thinks “helping” is an acceptable form of parenting or household management, instead of sharing in the partnership of responsibilities. One does not babysits one’s own children. You spend precious time with them.

The professional, privy to the grief a client is suffering from a recent loss, incrementally and systematically increases the quote to excess. When challenged, his response “I understand there is an inheritance” Good, quality paid services deserve a fair rate. What justifies spending this kind of money on any skill is having your expectations met. A principled work ethic.

More personally, when our Mother’s second husband methodically isolated her from her family and friends.  Controlling her to the point of removing all photos and traces of her daughters and grandchildren, and what use to feel like home when visiting was reduced to a holiday visit in a hotel.

This incivility is heightened with social media, liken to cyber Tourettes, where faceless masses post cruel judgements on public sites. More intimately, an infallibility-complexed friend, or in-law posts on a Facebook wall, other than their own, touting their extreme political view or violent, in-your-face observations of the world, to make a point of being “correct”, in spite of the truth.

All these abuses, if enough, and over time, can fuck you up. Even more so, on a professional level, if in need of the job and income, as most of the population, indeed, are to simply survive. One doubt oneself, and wonder could  more have been done or differently. Crazy get in your head, and the obsessive negative self talk is difficult to quiet.

Only a few of these scenarios are my own. The majority have been shared by friends because of my sensitivity and empathic ear. Although, all have taught me, and affirmed, it’s critical to know one’s self. This is never more valuable then when entering a romantic relationship. Give yourself the gift of time, necessary for growth. Learn to value and trust your own feelings, and then one can take responsibility for one’s own choices. Setting clear boundaries, and learning what those healthy boundaries are, can be a life long journey. Although, it’s never too early, or late, to start.

More and more with these life experiences I have premonitions of the manipulation to come. These dysfunctional efforts to control are obvious and transparent. Saying no, when it’s appropriate, reclaims personal power.

Unconditional Love doesn’t mean you neglect in Loving yourself enough to assess and ask “what would make this okay if I really do want to make myself available to this person who is exhausting me”. Being kind doesn’t have to mean being weak. Refusing to allow yourself to be manipulated by toxic drama not only takes care of yourself, but forces the person inflicting such behavior to face inevitable consequences. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone deserves a second chance. Unfortunately, I have learned, third, forth, and fifth chances rarely work.  More importantly, we can only control our own behavior.  No matter how kind, just or pure an intention, it does not mean it will be received as such.

My own boundaries keep me in check. I’ll consider helping when health and safety are at risk. However, sometimes professional help is the only course of action. Then again, professional help will not work if resisted. One has to want and invite therapy, and/or social services, for the healing to beginning.

In a professional setting, when someone is being a bully, just get more professional. If the abuser is a supervisor, requesting help to re-prioritize jobs and/or seek clarity of salary for tasks done on off hours isn’t unreasonable.  VPs, or managers, be certain what personal favor you are asking, or is being offered. Is the “favor” a choice and not an obligation out of fear. Then practice resprocity with a gesture that is from you, not at the companies expense.

With a spouse, support and compromise doesn’t mean your own needs are never considered or continually being minimized.

I’m no stranger to irrational thinking and feelings taking its toll. It took me years of work, and with many “therapist” that were unhealthy themselves, before finding a few who did some real good in their guidance and lifting of my consciousness. I was sick, and all I wanted was to “be normal” I’m a rape survivor. I learned that anger turned inward sometimes results in suicide attempts. I can only conclude that anger turned out, is what, at times, leads to impulsive homicide. The second, and third big depressions I survived where while raising my young daughter. Economic struggles, coupled with more unhealthy choices. Lastly, escalating adolescent behavior with my child’s own destructive choices took me to the darkest of places. Although, high functioning, I, to this day, have traces of PTSD. Just because one does not see a handicap, doesn’t mean there isn’t one.

The butterfly of happiness finally landed on my shoulder, and I never want her to leave. Therefore I try to avoid manic or unreasonable behavior in people, films, or books, or what I allow into my psyche, as I never want to go back. Back to that suffocating, repetitive, self hate mind chatter.

I’ve been lifted many times during the valleys of my life; by my friends, my parents, and all economic levels of my work colleges. With the emotional, financial, and spiritual generosity I’ve been blessed to received, I pushed myself, forcing myself to grow, to one day pay it forward, to share, to not get comfortable in only receiving.

Just like that flight attendant’s preflight announcement; in the event of an emergency, be sure to secure your oxygen mask first before assisting your children or elderly parent.

Please, take responsibility, and, good care of yourself.

*Title: coined by Dr. Andrew Bassak in paraphrase my thoughts
*I first read about the “butterfly of happiness” in the book Love, Medicine & Miracles by
Dr. Bernie S. Siegel