accept that people think I'm crazy

take it or leave it. :) i’ve accepted people think i’m not normal. and i’ve accepted that they might not be able to accept that. but that’s not my problem. :)

so worth it. Once you accept that people think you’re crazy that frees you up to do all the crazy things you want/need to do. Really, it’s a liberating experience.

Yes, indeed.

I’ve accepted it. Today while walking downtown I jumped up and down when my dad called me and told me that me grandfather had given me a significant donation to my AIDS walk fund. After hanging up I began to skip down Throckmorton (the main street downtown) after catching up to me my friend informed me (again) that I was crazy out of my mind, when I asked why she replied that I just am, and I always have been. Then another one of my friends said that I’ve been crazy since we were toddlers and I wouldn’t be me without my crazyness.

when i was a child, i fished a lot… im sure that the lead weights got to my brain…. im sure of it

I guess a friend of mine summed it up best when I was wondering aloud why my life can’t be normal. She said, “Because you’re not normal; you’re orange.”

I don’t know what that means to anyone else, but to me “orange” evokes happiness and whimsy and I like it.

So I’m marking this as done because I am different and I know I am and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I was feeling pretty low when I posted my last entry here. The fact is: It’s not that bad.

It takes all kinds to make the world go round, and I just happen to be one of those optomistic/crazy/zany/happy-go-lucky/serindipitous (is that a word?) kinds of people.

People think I’m crazy, but they like being around me because I like being around them. They’re not sure how to take my frequent expressions of love, but they are grateful for them. They’re not sure what to do with my compliments, but it makes them smile.

As long as I make people smile, they are welcome to think me as crazy as they like. Just, smile!

I was out with some friends last week, and one of the guys asked if I ate paint chips when I was a child.

The next afternoon at lunch, I shared this with another friend of mine, whose repsonse was, “I’m sure he’s not the first person to ever think that.”

I am who I am. I’ve tried to be normal. I’ve tried to live within the boundaries that surround everyone else’s existence, but I’m miserable when I do. I find that, when I am my normal strange self, not only am I happy, but I somehow have the ability to make everyone around me happy. People laugh, they smile, they forget for a few minutes that life is painful and remember, even if just for a little while, why they enjoy living.

Is that such a bad thing? Sometimes, I feel so alienated and alone and awkward. No one understands what’s inside my head. No one seems to understand that the things they say can hurt deeply.