Sometimes — more often than I’d like to admit — that old crazy-making feeling comes back.
And I feel as though I must be crazy because there’s no other explanation possible.
I must’ve done something wrong. I must’ve messed up somewhere. I wonder what I did to upset them? Hurt them? Cause them to treat me differently?
When I can’t figure out the answers — even when I ask — then I’m left with that age-old sense that I must just be crazy. It’s all in my head, I guess.
And now I’m forced to reconcile that with this whole “I am enough” thing. And I find it impossible to believe in my enoughness when I feel crazy.
Because crazy trumps everything, you know?
Or does it?
Even if I am crazy, am I not still enough?
Dang. That’ll get me thinking…
This post feels like an infinity pool — no clear end in sight. So all I can say is the same as always — I have no answers. No conclusions. No cloud-lifting “a-ha!” moments. Just a wrestling and a commitment to stay in the tension rather than run from it.
Crazy or not, here I come.