I knew my heart was broken. Now my brain's going all to pieces. Buy me a one-way ticket to the crazy corral, cuz my grey matter is going goulash. Two times now I've gone from crying to laughing or vice versa. Literally one moment laughing, one moment crying, without a pause to change moods in between. Once was weird, twice is a pattern.
You know, in the Kill Bill movies, at the very end, after she's finally, you know, done the title, she's on her bathroom floor cry-laughing. I get that a professional killer probably has a few cylinders misfiring. I don't think I'm that batshit yet, but I'm well on my way! BTW, if I do drop the dubious grip I currently have on sanity, I'm totally gonna break into assassin-ing. Or maybe I'll start raining down clown-themed crime on Gotham City.
One thing I don't want is to medicate myself through grief. If I'm going crazy, let it happen! Who cares? Plus, I don't know what they would prescribe me, but synthetic opioids have a direct relation to a spike in heroin overdoses in middle-class suburban communities. Not that I'm paranoid. But I wouldn't mind losing my mind. I know how to beg for change while simultaneously protecting my thoughts from the government psy-beams. I've never been institutionalized, but if I did, it'd probably help me get on a regular schedule, right?
I don't want to make light of people suffering from real, diagnosed mental illnesses, to be sure. But I do feel a bit crazy laugh-crying, you know? And I have zero problem making fun of myself. Plus, if I catch myself going crazy, maybe just noticing it helps me stay sane? Who knows. But hey, at least if they throw me into the wacko ward I'll get lots of hugs. The jacket they'll give me will make me hug myself constantly!
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