I struggled to open my eyes; someone during the night had placed tape over my eyelids so I couldn’t open them. Someone else had filled my body with drugs. I do not drink or use drugs, so I knew it wasn’t me. Yet, I felt drugged. My body didn’t want to move, yet it was late morning. I moved across the room in a manner we will laughingly call a walk. It was more like I slugged my way through thick fog that had more substance than air. Looking at my drawn faced and slightly crazed eye in the bathroom mirror, I realized I was having a “crazy day.”
There are rules in relationships, any kind of relationship, that help us survive each other’s foibles and “crazy days.” The first rule of crazy days is you must call “dibs.” By that I mean you must proclaim loud and clear that this is your crazy day and your partner, friend, roommate, co-worker, or assistant does not get to be crazy as well. A sure way to damage, even end a relationship, is for both of you to be crazy on the same day. In my relationships it isn’t allowed. The first one to proclaim they are having a crazy day gets treated with kid gloves—all day (yes, this is important relationship advice).
I growled my way through the morning, ignoring dishes in the sink, which for me is paramount to committing a felony. I wasn’t quite crazy enough to skip making the bed, so that got done. But I wasn’t wonderful or helpful. In fact, I growled at my assistant. She just smiled at me and pointed out the beauty of the snow-covered mountains and the beautiful curves of the land. My reply, “Stop sightseeing and watch the road.” Oh, I was just filled with the milk of human kindness.
I was crazy all day. Nope, it did not pass. I tried, in my more lucid moments, to figure out why I was having a crazy day. I really did. Who likes to be crazy? I hate gnawing at my own ankles like a wolf caught in a trap. Finally, the fog lifted enough for some sane clarity to peak through; I was afraid. It was an intense and simple as that. Life is flowing with grace. I am able to reach out and touch people and allow them to touch me. I love my life and it scared me.
The journey of self-love isn’t always smooth but it is always worth it. As I sat down to deal with my fear, the craziness lifted, I was connected with myself again and I sighed with relief.
