Thanks

Preface #1: I've been a little emotional lately.
Preface #2: In case you're new or slow or something, I'm the Family Fuckup. I know - in other families the fact that I've got no tattoos, all my teeth, a piddly associates degree, and never served hard time would make me the family golden child, but not in my family. There are people in my family who've won Emmys and written books, directed plays, birthed beautiful children, traveled with famous people, and done it all with a smile.

I've never even directed a sports play, and the one time I traveled with someone famous I didn't realize it until the plane had landed in LA, and once told the famous person had been on our plane, I'd never heard of him. Some things are wasted on me. Like good sushi.

My parents took mental breaks sometimes in their raising of me, but one of the impressive things about them is they never stopped trying. Sure they lost their shit on occasion, took some bad advice from professionals, but they were always game to take a deep breath and dive back in. One of the things not so impressive, is that they never allowed my history to stay in my past. If I lied this week, I was branded a liar for life, because I'd lied last week and the week before too. What was the point in telling the truth all the time when at least 75% of the time I could get away with lying, especially since they never believed me anyway? (I just forgot the point of sharing this.) (Oh yeah.)

Nothing ever felt truly forgiven because past offenses were brought up time and time again. Even in my 30's my mother has brought up the fact that I pushed a lamp off the piano when I was four years old. Since I'm an adult now, I can say with full authority that if she's still bitter enough (or anything enough, really) to bring it up, then she's got more problems than Four Year Old Me.

It wasn't until my late 20's that I understood how true forgiveness works. It slayed me when it happened, and it still slays me each time I think about it. I basically never talk to the person who forgave me, teaching me about forgiveness through her actions, but think of and appreciate this person all the time. I try to practice her style of forgiveness when other people hurt me. Of course, I'm a bitter bitch who holds grudges so I'm not as good at it as she is, but the point is that I try and that's better than not trying, right?

Anyway, there are so many people (and by so many, I mean like four - I keep my world small) who are truly open to letting me be however I may be (quirky comes to mind when I'm in a kind headspace, batshit crazy comes to mind when I'm not) without making me feel ashamed. And, see Preface #1, but I appreciate this more than I can say. Even more than a Hallmark AND Blue Mountain card combined could say.

I view my strain of crazy as a well. You know, like in a forest, with a bucket and shit? And I feel like I sit on the stone wall of the well. Or I walk around near it in the clearing that's in the forest. Yesterday was a particularly bad day and I dipped into the well.

My most important rule for myself when feeling that way is to not make any big decisions. Any email with the subject line "Hey, you know what I've always wanted to tell you?" should be discarded. Calls to people not spoken to in a long time should be avoided. Wait for the storm to pass. It always does. I am stronger than my crazy, and will use incredible upper-arm strength to pull out of that well.

Once out, you look around at the world. It's the same, yet slightly different. Well, the world isn't really different, but how you view it is. For me, I'm just appreciating those four a little extra right now.