I just had a baby and I was feeling miserable and I must've been suffering from postpartum psychosis or something because this happened:
Nigel had killed a spider (a real spider this time) and for some reason, his weapon of choice for killing spiders is a spoon. Not a shoe, not a book, a SPOON! Being Nigel, he left the spoon with the squished spider still attached to it on the dresser.
Every time I walked by that dresser, the voices in my head kept saying, "Lick the spoon! Lick the spoon!"
Of course I never licked the spoon, but it was scary enough that I even THOUGHT it (or the voices in my head thought it).
Are you technically "crazy" when you can realize that what you're thinking is crazy? Now whenever I'm afraid I may start "gardening with the fairies" (Rena's phrase for going cuckoo), I call it a "lick the spoon" moment.
4 comments:
A wise friend, who worked for years in mental institutions once told me that if you THINK about how you're crazy, you're definitely not crazy.
And THAT, has made me feel better on many a crazy night.
Maybe you should have licked the spoon. Who knows but what little shrivelled up spidos hold some kind of key to healing post-partum issues.
Hey! I just remembered, there's a big ol' dried spido in my basement, under a canning jar. If you know of a post-partum sufferer who wants to play guinea pig, I'm game to let her give it a try.
As someone who knows crazy, going crazy is scary, but once you're there you just enjoy the ride!
Speaking of eating spidos, didn't our brother do that? And he's the only one who isn't crazy. (I just ate dirt!)
AZUCAR -- you give me hope.
GEO -- Oh, you're grimming me out.
RENA -- I just remember dad eating a spider, and I think that negates your hypothesis.
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