I’m caught. Caught between two things that don’t mesh.
Thing A: I know I’m not what one would call normal. I can feel it. I can see it. Mostly I can feel it. Every day. All the time. It hurts me that I’m not normal.
Thing 2: When someone tells me that something about me is “normal”, I lose it. But isn’t that what I wanted? To be normal?
Well, yes? But no. When you tell me its’ normal I only feel invalidated because I know its not. Yes, maybe it in and of itself is in some way “normal”, but that’s a very surfacey way to look at it. Take it in its context. To say it is normal that we all experience sad emotions upon, say, a break-up, is in fact true. To say we all sometimes have the fear that our partner will be unfaithful and so the fear is “normal”, is I guess true.
Be real. I don’t just get sad. I don’t just “have a fear or worry”. MY POINT IS, my sadness is so painful it makes me want to kill myself. The fear/thought that my partner could be unfaithful, is beyond a fear. It’s such an intense paranoia that I get enraged. Suspicious. Accusatory, and yet again suicidal.
Take away the intensity and distortions and delusions, and I just may be normal. But don’t dismiss the intensity, distortions and delusions. They’re my crazy. I don’t want them but dammit don’t ignore them. It doesn’t make the weight I’m carrying any lighter.