August 21, 2010

the crazy

I think the things we do, we do to keep ourselves sane. Even though we feel crazy when we do them, they are really keeping the crazy at bay. Because there is a way that things are supposed to go.

Pregnancy, for instance, is supposed to lead to a baby; a real, warm, breathing baby in your arms. And a baby is supposed to become a child and then a teenager and then an adult with kids of his or her own. That is what is supposed to happen, and we know this. All of us know this. All of this unfolds behind our eyes in a flash the moment we see that double line appear. So when it doesn't happen, we sense that something absolutely fundemental in the universe has been tampered with, which should not, in fact, be possible -- and that is scary as all hell.

So when you dissociate, or go numb, or pretend things are different; when you cry for three or five or eleven days straight; when you write letters or speak aloud to someone who is not there; when you attempt to explain, again, the immense, contradictory emotions that you feel to a friend who doesn't understand; when you buy baby clothes or knit blankies for a baby who isn't a baby anymore or, conversely, who will remain a baby forever -- don't feel bad. Don't feel ashamed. Don't think you're crazy. You are keeping the crazy at bay. Just imagine a person who didn't seem to care at all about the awful events that had befallen them. That person would be insane. And would you not be much more afraid of that person, than of the person who finds a way to get through?

You are not scary. You are not wrong. You. Are. Not. Crazy. You are sad. And you are allowed to be sad.

Peace and love to you all, from the bottom of my heart.
I need these words as much as anyone. --vk


  1. Wow, what an amazing post. And so very true. I appreciate so much all of what you said. I am sad. And I should be sad...we should all be sad. And we do things that prevent us from going crazy with all the sadness we feel. Thank you for writing this.

  2. On Thursday I was sobbing in my naturopath's office and I apologized, said I didn't know what was wrong with me. She turned to me and said, "Honey, really, we would be more worried about you if you weren't reacting this way."

    I do feel a little crazy sometimes, but you're right, it's actually more normal than not grieving at all.

  3. Simply beautiful and well put. These are the words of encouragment and reality that I need to hear repeatedly. Thanks for writing them.