“There’s no such thing as Normal. There’s no such thing as Crazy. We’re all a little in-between, and the line is very hazy.” –SJB
Since the beginning of my bout with mental illness, I have bristled around the word “crazy.” I avert my eyes when films include false renditions of electro convulsive therapy. I have been subject to that harsh reality. My mind has been fried several times. I have awoken with a headache so painful it feels as if I have undergone brain surgery. When we watch scary movies, I am physically sick when I witness torture in this form. I look away, and ask my husband when it’s safe to face the box again. For years I have witnessed “crazy” people in the negative light: the shooter, the unstable, the bad guy. Today I decided to own one of the most popular, misunderstood words I hear all the time. “Crazy.” I can be crazy and wear it proudly; a fearless uniform for a larger game at play. It is not a label, but a word used by people who fear the unknown; minds closed to invisible reality. “Crazy” people wield the power to educate the ignorant.
I am in control, though in a movie I would be sent to an asylum due to my voices and delusions. So? I’m “crazy?” There was a phrase used when I was younger that I won’t forget. “I know you are, but what am I?” Everyone, whether they like it or not, has a little crazy in their bones. “Crazy” is just a word. It is used as an adjective, an insult, and part of an outdated statement; used as frequently and carelessly as any. Hold your head high, because when you are called crazy, you are not the ignorant. You deal the cards.
–SJB