The Shape of Crazy


Some days you have to just say that, well, okay, putting back the pint of ice cream a couple spoonfuls after you felt like you were losing control is a victory.

Going over and feeding the animals who needed you despite being lost in a video game is a victory.

Replying to an email you’d half-forgotten about for two days rather than feeling guilty you didn’t immediately answer it and blocking it out of your memory is a victory.

Knowing you needed some protein and getting up to cook a filling meal for yourself to keep yourself on an even keel even if you probably had less care over the calorie counts than usual is a victory.

Letting yourself be open to crying, mindfully checking your brain and giving yourself quiet time, even if you couldn’t actually break down and turn on the waterworks.  Realizing you couldn’t because you didn’t need to.  Because you are in the very midst of resolving the problem you would be crying about.  All of that is a victory.

Being not exactly when everything in you wants you on lockdown, wants you at quota, wants to take the knife and measure you flat against the lip of the cup is a victory.

Going through and putting in your calories even if it means you’re over.  Recognizing that even if you never put in your calories again, be it in this app or another, you are still eating them.  Not despairing over this is a real victory.

Accepting that this is that time of the month when you get extra hungry and you get extra angsty and you get extra low and you get extra extra about everything and you can’t change it.  You can let it go by and not change your behavior based on these few days.  Doing that is a big victory because the impulse to say, no, I am this shitty and failing and ravenous and out of control is strong.  That I am at all able to call upon the impulse to say I am an unassailable fortress of light and an indestructible obelisk of cardio exercise is a victory.

Cluing into the fact that the reason your face goes numb is because you crush it into your palm for hours on end whilst playing video games.  You are not suddenly developing bells palsy.  I am giving you this victory, but I do hope you’ll be a little bit more chill next time.

Looking at Sunday night without a violent fright about the Monday morning that follows is a glowing, smoking, white-hot victory.

Looking at OKC and seeing Mr. Confusion’s mug unexpectedly and feeling less strongly than I might is a victory of the good.

Being willing to forge ahead with all my big plans even if they feel impossible and deflated and imperfect and basically made of embers and not the fire they sparked.   It is my focus on them that makes them real, not their inherent worthiness.  Writing this story happens with me writing it.  Practicing driving happens with me putting myself behind the wheel.  Not giving up is my biggest possible victory.




2 thoughts on “The Shape of Crazy”

  1. Wow i love this! So true that the smallest seeming things of every day life are actually victorious. In many ways! Like just getting out of bed every monday morning to continue your work week is a victory! This is very well written :)

  2. Thank you for this. I have to change my lens sometimes because I feel real downtrodden that I’m not where I want or expect. it helps!

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