Obviously I realize that I am crazy. Not only is it my twitter name but it is also the title and theme of my blog. I can't say that I am proud of it but I have definitely accepted myself for who I am. A fucking loon. I took a drive with my cousin Ms. Pulitzer to drop her grandmother off at home and we had a lovely discussion about this and the childhood events that could be blamed for my insanity. I figured since this is the season of giving and the fact that I have nothing better to do at the moment, I will share (some of) them.
1) I was not a planned baby.
Since my mother feels the need to hide basic details from me, I had no idea about this until some time last year when Ms. Pulitzer and her mom (my loving Aunt) just casually mentioned it in convo, thinking I had known about it. My mother was not my father's first wife. Actually she's not his second either. Or his third or fourth. For the mathematically challenged individuals out there, she was his fifth wife. Their wedding was his sixth though since he married his first wife twice.1 When my father was married to his first wife they had three children; two daughters and a son. Unfortunately two days before Christmas their son (the youngest) died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Afterwards they decided they did not want to have anymore children so my father had a vasectomy. Then they divorced for whatever reasons2 and he went on to marry other women, (yadda, yadda, yadda) and then somehow ended up with my mother. There was a 15 year age difference between my parents and my mother was in her mid-thirties when they met and married so my father was no spring chicken then. Now since we really are not close, I don't know how my mother felt about marrying a man who was only nine years her mother's junior much less one who had already had children and was "fixed" but knowing how she is, she definitely had a lot of comments and guilt that she fed to my father. I'm not sure how my mother managed to get pregnant, maybe vasectomies were not done right in the '60s but I was born. My father had not only raised his children already but was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was very young. My mother just had no idea what she was doing and this led to me not being disciplined and getting away with anything that I tried. It was all well and good until it became time for me to go to school and be around children my age because my um, "rambunctious" behavior definitely did not attract others to me.
2. I was poorly socialized.
This ties in with reason #1. Aside from half-sisters who were in their 30s and had children of their own, I was an only child. My parents both worked and were older so they really did not give me the attention that I needed and certainly did not bothering socializing me with other children my age. Before I started school the only other children that I knew were my cousins, Ms. Pulitzer (who is all of 9 weeks younger than I am) and her older brother. Since Ms. Pulitzer and I were forever put against each other (we even have the same first name) we did not get along at all and constantly fought. Also since I was not used to being around other children I clung to her, which definitely did not help the situation. As if that wasn't enough, we moved around the corner from my cousins and my mother decided to put me in the same school as them. Now we went to a small parochial school where there was only one class per grade and about thirty students to a class, so we were together all day long. Same problem, I clung to everyone since I was not used to being around kids and ended up driving everyone away from me. I was abused in grammar school (Ms. Pulitzer, who had friends, would chime in) and would often act out just for the attention. When I say that I had no friends, I literally mean that I had no friends. Like I would sit alone during the lunch period and just wonder around during recess, while everyone else was playing. As if that was not bad enough, the minute I got into high school I decided to completely make up an entire life to mask the one I had because I felt that it would better help me to make friends. Obviously it did not and I left high school with one or two girls who I still talk to and consider a friend.
Of course there are more things that have happened in my life but when it comes down to it, they always revolve around the two reasons that I listed above. As a result of this I am still somewhat socially awkward (it has improved, trust me) and I am a fucking neurotic mess. I think this partially has to do with being an imperfect perfectionist but also because I am terrified of people not accepting me. Growing up I was so used to having the people I tried befriending not liking me or becoming sick of me (I was told this to my face) so when I finally meet those who like me, I almost get too excited and eventually end up pushing them away. To this day Minute Man is still my favorite example of this, when he figured out that I was crazy homeboy fucking took off like a bat out of hell. I almost feel bad for the new guy because well A) he has to put up with me and B) nothing that I over-think and question (yes, he gets questioned) him about has to do with him. He said it the best when he had rhetorically asked if anything he had said/done caused me to question his intentions or where this was going. They haven't. In fact, he has treated me better than most of the men I dated but because he wants to take things slowly (which if anything should be a good sign) I take it as a bad sign and think that he must be getting sick of me. Hopefully I will learn to calm the fuck down, or get my hands on a prescription for Xanax before I do end up driving this one away.
All in all, Christmas 2010 was very nice. I had a great weekend with my family and Santa treated me very well. Hope everyone enjoyed their holiday!
1. I guess she was his "one true love", especially since my father was about to leave my mother but ended up dying first.
2. I have heard that my father was a philanderer and apparently had cheated on every one of his wives with the exception of my mother since he was too sick/old.