She Caught The Crazy!
by Rebecca Brody
There comes a time in every womans life when circumstances have driven her to the edge of reason. When a woman reaches this breaking point anything out of the ordinary can, and usually does happen. This blog is a culmination of stories depicting those unique times in a womans life when she has lost all rational thought. She finds herself making choices that can only be termed "She Caught The Crazy!"
Have you ever caught the crazy? Do you want to share your story? Send it to: SCTCBlog_AOL.COM and you could have your story published on AOL.
Xmas Debacle
Xmas is known as a time of loving, giving, family bonding, and hearty eating, but for me its a time to catch the crazy. Once again my boyfriend had won at holiday lottery, and we were to spend Xmas day at his familys home in Connecticut. We caught the late night train from NYC, laden with bags of gifts. Walking into his mothers home we were dazzled with the sweetest little Xmas tree. It was short, fat and brightly lit with white lights, and a sea of presents swam around its hem. The smell of pine needles hung in the air, and I was transported to the beautiful world of Xmas. I hail from a mixed family, my father a white Jew from Pennsylvania, and my mother a black Catholic from Ghana. Living under the roof of two religions produced a battle between Hanukkah and Xmas that would result in my being showered with an excessive number of gifts. My boyfriend comes from a large Irish family, where a tree, a stocking and one gift are customary. This was our very first Xmas together, and I was emotionally taxed at the thought of making sure everyone loved their presents. My boyfriend and I had mentioned that we should only get one gift since we were planning on taking several trips during the New Year. This was a difficult rule to follow since my natural instinct is to give when Im in love.
We crawled into bed early Xmas morning, and I was giddy with excitement. I gain a natural high from gift giving, so the act of tearing open presents is akin to Godzilla storming Tokyo. I awoke at noon, and heard voices stirring below. The stairs creaked, and a knock resounded through the bedroom. My boyfriends visibly hung over brother popped his head in, "Morning love birds. Breakfast in 20, presents in 25." I beamed from ear to ear, releasing a wave of toxic morning breath. After cleaning up, we made our way to the festivities, where we were greeted with spicy bloody Marys and ushered toward the breakfast table. To my joy it was laden with eggs, sausage, and cinnamon sticky buns. I couldnt think of a better way to erase my Thanksgiving Tofurkey nightmares. After filling our bellies, the kids couldnt contain themselves. Okay, okay coaxed my boyfriends mother, you can open your presents. It was off to the races. Adults bolted from the table in a mad scurry to beat each other to the tree, and you got a little taste of sibling rivalry. I attempted to move daintily toward the scuffle, even though I was light headed and it took every ounce of control not to scream. Sitting next to my man, I began passing out gifts with a strained smile and that dreamy look you get in your eyes that says I hope you like it. Inside though, my competitive ego squealed, I know youre going to love it, and I'm going to be the best gift giver ever!
As I opened my gifts from his family, I was stung with emotion at how thoughtful and wonderful they were. I felt truly welcome here. I handed my boyfriend a pile of gifts, and was so excited to watch his face as he opened them. First a new back pack, that I had spent a week tracking down; two belts; surf lessons in Puerto Rico; an evening sail on a Catamaran; and lastly a video I pod nano that I had filled with an assortment of cool new songs. I felt like the rock star of gift givers. He picked up a card and handed it to me. Although it was just a card, my boyfriend had taught me on my birthday to reserve judgment (He took me to Hawaii). I was so excited to see what Xmas had in store that I shredded the envelope. Inside were two show tickets. One was a tango show, and since we had taken up dance lessons, it was an appropriate choice. The other was for a play I had not heard of, and he had picked an evening in which I had already scheduled a She Caught the Crazy Seminar! How fitting considering I was about to do just that. My smile slowly faded, and the crazy, sarcastic thoughts began circling through my mind. Theatre tickets for Xmas? I buy theatre tickets every other week for date night, and he thought this was going to wow me? I spent weeks considering what to get him, and he spent a few minutes. Dont I feel valued! Remembering that I was being watched, I looked him square in the face and with all the kindness I could muster, I muttered "Thank you honey. I love it." I am a poor liar, but I didnt want to catch the crazy in front of his family.
All the excitement and the eventual let down had made me exhausted, so I went upstairs to lie down. My boyfriend followed, sensing the tension that had built between us. Attempting to make a connection, he smacked my bum playfully. I threw him a dirty look that said now is not the time, but that just spurred him on. He smacked my bum again, and all the crazy that I had been attempting to control came rushing to the surface. My face contorted into rage and I began furiously smacking his bum. This escalated into a full scale bum smacking war; two adults scrambling to get at the others ripe rump. It suddenly dawned on me, that I had completely caught the crazy, and instead of communicating how I felt, I was releasing it in this childish physical manner.
"Stop!" I screamed. We stared at each other in silence as the vulnerability and hurt spread across my face. "I need a hug" I wimpered.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me and I laid my head on his shoulder. My voice filled with emotion.
"I guess you noticed I was a little upset with my gift. I put thought and love into getting yours and I guess I just expected the same from you."
He kissed my forehead. "I tried to get you something else." he exclaimed, "It was sold out, and I only had time yesterday to get presents. I thought we had agreed to only get one gift, so that is what I did. If I had known what this meant to you, I would have done more. Im sorry."
I felt a wave of relief. I had caught the crazy because of unfulfilled expectations, but now my relationship had the opportunity to grow. I realized that my overt goal was to make him happy, but my covert goal was to be accepted. He asked me to share this very personal family holiday with him, and that was more than acceptance. That was loving me just the way I am.
On the Bunny Slopes
I have always been a natural athlete, so when my boyfriend suggested we head to Vermont for a snowboarding mini break, I was more than enthused. Having been born in Africa, I take to the ocean like a baby in the womb, so the chance to cultivate a relationship with the snow inspires thoughts of a romantic winter get away. I called friends and pulled together a mix n match outfit for the slopes. My boyfriend grabbed his gear and borrowed a brand new snow board for me. Hopping in our rental, we made the four hour drive up to Smugglers Notch, a name which sends me into a fit of giggles.
My boyfriend and I are in the honeymoon phase of, so much of the drive is spent hugging, kissing, touching, and smiling dreamily. We arrive in time for a late dinner, and then snuggle up to catch some shut eye. Unable to sleep, I was brimming with excitement at the thought of us traversing the trails. We were this hot, young, athletic couple, with a natural talent for snow boarding, and a confidence and adventure for life and love. It didnt matter that I had never been snow boarding. I had taken a ski lesson several years ago, and had managed to go from bunny slope to intermediate trail in one day. This would be a breeze.
We woke early, and began the process of layering clothes. Bright pink wool socks over lime green eighties pant leggings; navy blue sweater with a cheetah print turtle neck. I looked like a stuffed snowman that had been clothed by the left over bin at the Salvation Army. Topping it off with a blue and white striped hat and black goggles, I didnt have the nerve to look in the mirror. As long as Im warm, who cares what I look like! I thought, thankful I was in Vermont and no one from New York would ever see me.
We made our way to the mountain and got in line to purchase tickets. Next we got in line to rent boots. Then we got in line to switch my board to goofy foot. (I dont know why they chose such an obnoxious term to describe snow boarding with your right foot forward.) I had planned to get a snow boarding lesson but by the time we stepped onto the slopes and I saw the line leading up to the chair lift, and the line leading up to the instruction booth, my impatience won out. My boyfriend was also anxious and offered to teach me himself. He knew how to ski fairly well, and with my raw natural talent for sports, I figured we would be a success.
The lift took us halfway up the mountain, and we laughed at snowboarders who careened into trees. My boyfriend explained how to slide off the lift and I did so effortlessly. I was all smiles. We buckled both feet on to the board and he explained how to shift your weight from side to side, so as to snake down the mountain gracefully. I made a few attempts and landed on either my bum or my face. I consider these my two best assets, and was none too pleased to know that I was doing damage to both. I got up and tried again, managing to stay up this time. The board accelerated, and I went speeding off down the hill.
"FALL!" screamed my boyfriend, as I almost careened into a skier.
"Sorry! Sorry!"I croaked, as the skier threw me a dirty look.
"You have to be careful, honey. You cant go plowing into other people. You could hurt someone." he chastised.
No Shit! I thought indignantly, but only managed to pipe in another sorry.
So far this wasnt going as planned, but I was determined to keep a positive attitude. I flailed down the rest of the mountain, half on my butt, half backwards, and only managed to look remotely like a snow boarder as the ground leveled off.
Shall we go again? my boyfriend asked cheerily. My mind said no, but my mouth said sure, so off to the lift we went. This time my boyfriend took me to the top of the mountain. My confidence was waning and as I slid off the chair and fell on my back, I knew this was not going to get better. We made our way down, and got stuck on a flat. You have to hop your snow board across flat areas of snow to reach the next slope, which is an exhausting feat. When I finally managed to move forward, I boarded straight off the course and into the trees. Every time I tried to get up, my board would slide deeper into the woods. I had to crawl back onto the path, which was no easy task since I was so heavily layered I felt like I was in a giant sumo fat suit. My frustration was brimming over, when I boarded around a corner and saw my boyfriend sitting on a snow bank drinking water. I tried to move toward him and spun out of control. Remembering to fall, my board sliced a clean chunk out of his, and my wrists crashed into the snow sending shooting pains up both arms. Tears sprung to my eyes, then immediately froze on my cheeks. I was cold, miserable and hurt, and all I wanted was to get off this damn mountain.
We finally made it down, and my boyfriend could tell from the look on my face, that would be my last run. Making our way to the lodge, I had hoped to find a warm fire and hot chocolate. Instead I was deposited in a cold room full of screaming kids. I pulled off my coat and gloves while pain seared my wrists. They had swollen to the size of tennis balls. My boyfriend bought ice packs and pressed them lovingly against my skin. I wanted to be left alone to lick my wounds (as any proper Leo would), so I told him to go back and get a few runs in. He refused of course, wanting to take care of me, but I insisted he get his moneys worth.
Sitting alone and miserable, the crazy thoughts began to stir. Well that was a big failure. What a waste of money. Im all alone. Why are those kids staring at me? Just leave me alone. I wish I were in my bed. I made my way to the bathroom and upon looking in the mirror saw that my eyes were rimmed with a black sooty substance. The goggles had rubbed off, my cheeks were bright red, my hair was frizzed out from the sweat and snow, and my eyes were puffy from crying. I looked frightening.
I sat for hours waiting for my boyfriend to return as the crazy thoughts continued to swirl. Seizing the opportunity to stop stewing in my own self pity, I returned the snow gear. Making my way back to the lodge, I waited impatiently. I finally saw my boyfriend wandering and I rushed out to meet him.
Where were you? he asked. I looked everywhere for you!
My thoughts raged: Where was I? I was sitting alone in this cold, pitiful little lodge, full of screaming children, icing my wrists, which wouldnt hurt if you were a decent instructor. Where was I? WHERE WERE YOU!?" Sound the alarms, I had caught the crazy! With one look my boyfriend knew not to push it.
We got in the car, and the silence between us was punctuated by the sounds of my sniffling. I closed my eyes. Years of relationship coaching training had taught me to keep my negative thoughts to myself, until I could communicate them in a healthy way. I took several deep breathes and centered myself. The real issue was that I felt like a failure for not being able to learn quickly. This need for instant accomplishment had plagued me throughout life, and I would beat myself up if I didnt succeed. This was an unhealthy practice and I decided it was time to end it. I needed to change the way I looked at this whole situation. Instead of thinking I was a failure, I had to see that I was a success for trying something new in my life.
I am an adventurous, thrill seeking woman, with a zest for life. I am full of love. Repeating this mantra over and over, I began to shift my energy. My boyfriend, who is used to this sort of thing, looked over and grinned. Feel better? he asked. I nodded. He reached his arm around and pressed me into the crook of his shoulder, knowing this is my favorite place in the world. I realized that I was not only a success on the slopes, but a success in my relationship. I had the power to stop catching the crazy!
Wedding Madness
Weddings are an opportunity to bask in the glory of loves communion, so when my boyfriend invited me to his cousins wedding, I saw this as a big step in our relationship. It was to be held on Block Island, and since I would be meeting his entire family, I felt the need to make an impression. I picked out a gorgeous new dress in shimmering brown satin, paired it with my brown snake skin heels, and gold accessories to match. I felt elegant and chic.
We arrived at the hotel the night before, and joined everyone on the beach for an old fashioned clam bake. The drinks were flowing, as the introductions commenced. I plastered on my most dazzling smile as we moved from cousin to aunt to brother and so on. Each time my boyfriend left my side, I felt a little spark of panic, only to have it subside when one of his family members stepped in to make conversation. The weather had cooled, being mid September, and noticing my chilly state my boyfriend purchased two sweat shirts. These were the little acts of love that endeared him to me as my knight in shining armor. As we walked back to the hotel in the black of night with only the stars to light our path, I felt an overwhelming sense of warmth as if I had been wrapped in a blanket made of love.
After breakfast we returned to the hotel to prepare for the wedding. Since alcohol is a depressant and we drank the night before, I was already in a slightly emotional state. We showered and dressed, and when I presented the finished product to my boyfriend he smiled, kissed my cheek, and said I looked lovely. As kind a response as that may seem, I was not thrilled with it. I wanted an over the top "You look gorgeous!" and his less than jubilant reaction squashed my confidence. In my brown dress, and with my lowered self esteem I made my way fortuitously to the bar. The champagne began flowing, which honestly is one of the best reasons to go to a wedding. One glass down and I felt as bubbly as the brut.
Weddings can be rather awkward when youre the +1, since you really dont know anyone and you have to pretend as if you are okay with that. My boyfriend left to go and grab the camera, and I clung to my champagne glass as if it were a life raft on the titanic. Two glasses down and I started to feel restless. Topping off my third glass I made my way through the party like a ghost floating through a haunted house; everyone can feel your presence, but no one really sees you. I felt a tad self conscious being alone, which is rare for me, since Im a highly independent person. My boyfriend came up from behind and said the ceremony would be starting soon, and we should make our way outside.
The sun was shining, but the cold had arrived and my bare arms and legs were prickled with goose bumps. The wind whipped my hair out of its pristine up do, and with my lack of confidence, I was not feeling like myself. The music began and everyone fixed their gaze on the door. The bride was dressed in an old fashioned beaded white gown, and her make up was done to classic wedding perfection. My boyfriend wrapped his arms around me, kissed my check and said he was going to take pictures. As he moved away from me, my heart sank. This was the moment that I wanted to share with him. As cheesy as it may sound, I wanted that feeling of connection that you can only get when two people relate to a situation together. In the fantasy of my mind, he would have wrapped his arms around me, kissed me lovingly, and given me that look that says I cant wait to marry you. In reality though, I was making the slow march towards catching the crazy.
Like most of the women there I became bleary eyed and emotional, a state I can blame on both my big heart and the ever flowing champagne. I usually let my emotions flow, knowing that they are tools to help me process life, but this time I held back the tears. This was not for stoicism or pride, but rather for vanity. I didnt want my make up to run, so I held my face in a stony smile, as the crazy thoughts began to rise. Two voices began fighting each other in my head:
Why didn't he say I looked amazing? Maybe he doesnt like the dress. I really wish he would just come back and be close to me. He's only taking pictures, calm down! But I want him here now. Well then you shouldn't have bought him a camera for his birthday! Don't be absurd.
This internal dialogue spirals me deeper into crazy, as we make our way to the buffet table. Finding little comfort in the food, I reach once more for my best buddy bubbly in hopes of drowning out the raucous debate in my mind. Sensing that I need some alone time, I tell my boyfriend I will be back and make my way to the garden. Sitting quietly with my thoughts, I close my eyes and attempt to empower myself with positive feelings. Suddenly a rush of noise and turmoil descends from all sides.
PicturesPictures every one. Into the garden please! screams a shrill voice.
I open my eyes to see my boyfriend standing in front of me holding his camera. "Hey love! Will you take some pictures for me?"
"Sure!" I say with a half smile. The whole family gathers together and the snapping commences. Several other members of the family ask me to take pictures with their camera and I am happy to oblige. It is only when his brother tells me to get in the picture that the crazy thoughts return. "No thats okay!" I answer. I am on the verge of losing it, so I excuse myself and adjourn to our room. I close the door and press up against it in tears. The alternating voices commence:
Why didn't he ask me himself to be in the picture? Maybe he doesnt consider you family. But I love him, and I think I want him to be my family. Oh my god! You're seriously in love! Ugh! I feel so vulnerable. Listen missy. Its about time you admitted just how much you love this guy. I do. I love him so much and I want him to be my husband. Whoa! Now you're scaring both of us. I'm in love! Okay. I say to no one.
As this realization dawns, a big, goofy smile stretches across my face. He invited me to this wedding to introduce me to his whole family, and that was his first step toward making a commitment. Now the ball is in my hands, and I am catching the crazy because it is my comfort zone. I use it shield myself when I am faced with change. Now is the time to change my pattern and face what has always scared me. You are a child of love. I want you to go back down there and face your fear of commitment.
I find my boyfriend, and as he smiles my insides light up with the most divine feeling. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him gently on the lips. Thank you for sharing this day with me. You mean the world to me. He squeezes me tighter and says I love you. This was a better connection than I had ever imagined, and all I had to do was stop catching the crazy and start facing the love.
Hair Affair!
I am currently in an interracial relationship, with a loving, honest, and committed man. We have been dating for a year and a half, and in that time I have had to struggle with racial issues that have come from outside and from within. One of the most difficult issues though, has stemmed from my head.
My hair had always been an area of exasperation for me growing up, and since my parents were diplomats with Unicef, we spent much of our time in "third world" countries, where products were not always accessible. My parents, an interracial couple, have backgrounds as dissimilar as their color. My father hails from a white Jewish family in Pennsylvania and my mother a black Catholic family from a small fishing village in Ghana. They met while my father was teaching English with the Peace Corps in West Africa. Their union spawned children with medium toned skin and curly hair that would turn blond in the hot African sun. We were an anomaly in Africa, and people saw us as bofre and bruni, terms used to describe the white man. Even though we stood out, we were more a curiosity to the other children, who would constantly be touching and picking at our heads, sometimes pulling out little strands of curly straw hair as keepsakes. Once a week my father would sit me down with a brush and comb and try to exorcise the tangles. This was a painful ordeal that would last an hour, and by the end I would be in tears. I came to believe that the hairs on my head were somehow connected to my stomach. Every time he pulled, my stomach would pull, leaving me nauseous. My brothers nicknamed me volcano head because my hair erupted into a giant mass above my head and a lava flow of tears would run down my face.
At the age of 14, I had had enough.
We were living in Ankara, Turkey at the time, and I was still sporting my parents favorite style -- a pony tail to the back of my head. My folks called it a pompy do, which was embarrassing enough if anyone ever asked. I decided to experiment, so I pulled my hair into a side ponytail. This produced a massive poof ball of hair to the right of my head. Thinking I looked very fashionable, I went to school with my head held high, feeling beautiful for once. This feeling was not to last.
I was sitting quietly in music class when a kid behind me yelled ''Hey! I can't see past Brody's two heads!'' I was mortified as every one in class laughed. I got up and went to cry alone in the women's bathroom. It was my friend Vicki who came to my rescue. She took me to a hair salon for the very first time. The stylist saw my mound of hair and was determined to tame it. With roller brushes and blow dryers he worked tirelessly, and when he spun me around in the chair, I was speechless. My once tangled and unruly hair was stick straight, smooth and soft, and hung beautifully down my back. I was reborn!
I would spend the next 18 years confined to my curling iron; running away from rainstorms; avoiding jumping into any body of water; searching for air conditioning to avoid sweating out my roots; and spending no less than an hour a day taming what I saw as the beast. For ten of those years I was a hair model, and I spent over $30,000 to maintain my locks. After my modeling days were over, I became tired of the time wasted blow drying and straightening, so I had my trusted stylist do it for me. I was less obsessed with my hair, and more interested in my new career as a relationship coach.
The turning point came on a trip, which would be filled with first times. My boyfriend and I had decided to take a weekend jaunt to the sunny beaches of Miami, to chase away the winter blues. Whenever I go some place humid, I don't fight the weather, but rather let my hair go natural and wild. This was the first time my boyfriend had seen my hair in its natural state, and he became instantly enamored. He said I looked so beautiful with curly hair, and wondered why I hadn't worn it this way before. That evening we went out to dinner, and as we kissed he said ''I love you'' for the very first time. I believed him wholeheartedly, because I had shed the veil of my old identity and allowed my true and natural self to shine through. Looking in the mirror I realized that my natural hair is so beautiful, and for the first time I started to embrace my real self.
The struggle continued though, because I wanted to hold onto what I had always known. It was safe and provided me with the security that I would be accepted in the world. My boyfriend kept asking me to wear it natural, and saying how much he loved it; my mind wanted to clutch to what I perceived as normal. It was my hair stylist who helped me to make the decision for myself. She told me that my boyfriend wanted a wild woman in his bed. Someone who looked as if she had just crawled out of the African bush; and that once I had made the transformation back to my crazy hair, he would leave me for someone with smooth, straight, beautiful hair.
The crazy thoughts began to swim like sharks in my mind. What if she's right? Who would think this mass of unruly, wild hair is beautiful? Oh no! I don't want to lose his love. I felt fear within me, and as a coach it set off warning bells, that I was catching the crazy. My own stylist was manipulating me with this awful perspective so that I would continue to pay for her services. Suddenly I began to see how I had let all these other people, who couldn't love me for who I was, dictate what was beautiful in life. I had shown my true self to one man, and he loved me just the way god created me. He allowed me to love myself wholly and that is the definition of beautiful.
On Bended Knee!
The clock read half past midnight as I stood idly by the bar waiting for two customers to finish their desert. The sight of the warm chocolate banana cake a reminder, that in less than an hour I would turn 28. I love birthdays, and I have a penchant for starting them early and celebrating them for at least a week. This one would be no different. I had plans to meet my boyfriend for lunch tomorrow, then a party with my coworkers on Thursday night, and a joint birthday bash on Saturday to celebrate mine and my mans illustrious day of birth. Caught up in a daze of birthday planning, I jumped as Ichi, the manager of the small downtown sushi restaurant, came up behind me. In a thick Japanese accent he said Appy bert-day! You gettoo go ome early. We close now. A huge grin spread across my face, as I booked it over to the table to drop my last check.
Walking home, I was excited to see my boyfriend and have a little midnight celebration. I entered our apartment and Rose, our baby Chihuahua came scampering up to welcome me. The lights and T.V were off in the living room, so I assumed that Hank was in bed, and I couldnt wait to peck his face with kisses. Walking into the bedroom, I was surprised to find it empty. A look of realization swept across my face as I figured out that he had probably gone to the restaurant to surprise me. I had left early, so we probably missed each other in transit. I picked up the phone and listened patiently as the ring went to voice mail. Oh god, I hope hes not picking up flowers or something to surprise me. It would be just awful if he were to go all the way to the restaurant only to have to come right back. My thoughts were peppered with a gleeful anticipation of what ever the surprise might be, and my heart swelled with love for him.
Plopping down on the couch, I flicked through channels waiting for him to call. 10 minutes went by 20 minutes, no call and by 30 minutes my mind was racing. What the hell? Why hasnt he called me back yet? Oh no! What if something bad happened to him? My mind immediately jumped to a picture of him lying in the road injured, as tears sprang to my eyes. I pulled back the image, and reminded myself, that type of thinking is not constructive. Searching the house for his gym bag, I assumed he hadnt been home yet, since he always goes to the gym after work and is back by 7pm. Well if he hasnt been home, where the hell is he? I was seriously worried. I called a few more times and left messages, wondering at what point it was rationally acceptable to start harassing hospitals. Calm down. He is probably fine. Why dont you watch a movie and relax.
An hour and a half later, the phone rings, and I attack it so ferociously, Rose bounces off my lap. There was loud music blasting in the background as Hank gleefully screamed Hey BABY! Oh Yeah! Great! Having drinks with some of the guys! He was piss drunk, and I was pissed off. Knowing this was not the time for such a battle I withheld my remarks, and sighed great which was a mix between relief and bitterness. Ill be home soon he lightly slurred as I responded with a teeth clenched dont worry about it. Slamming the phone down, I was livid. I didnt want to yell at him in front of his friends or make a big crazy scene over the phone, but everything in my body was buzzing with anger.
An hour later, he came stumbling into the bedroom, and as he lay down in bed, I popped up and made my way to the couch. I was still seething, and this act of defiance was how I was going to make my point. I barely slept, as fits of anger washed over me and the same thoughts turned over and over in my mind. The little bit of sleep I managed to procure was disturbed when the front door slammed, announcing that he had gone to work.
Attempting to sleep was useless, so I got on the computer and decided to try and get some work done. An e-mail popped up from hank, and my heart simultaneously flipped and grew sad. He said he understood why I was mad, and he knew that I didnt like it when he went out late with his friends and got that drunk. He explained that his friends wanted to take him out for his birthday. The petulant child in me reared its bratty head. F-U! Your birthday isnt for five more days! Its my birthday! Mine! He commented that I was over reacting to the situation, and that made me even angrier. How dare he tell me, that Im the one being crazy! He didnt even bother to call and let me know that he was going to be out till 3am. That is disrespectful and totally unacceptable. I was fed up, and called my friend Samantha.
Hi! Remember when you said we should go out for birthday drinks? Well were going to do it!
She was surprised by my attitude, and said I thought you had lunch plans!?
Nope! Not anymore, I quipped with a vengeful glee.
The plan was to be absent when he showed to pick me up. As I turned the idea over in my mind, I started to feel bad about standing him up, so I e-mailed to let him know that I wasnt going to be home. I was going to do my own thing and try to have a happy birthday. It sounded like I was going on a salvage mission, but I was too angry to recant. Suddenly I was overcome with a ball of furious emotion. My body grew hot, and my head ached at the thought of spending this day without him. I started sobbing uncontrollably, and hyperventilating. Rose ran to the couch and burrowed under a pillow, having never seen me in this state before. I was so angry, upset, and hysterical and all I wanted to do was hurt him. Each time I imagined doing that though, I felt worse and sobbed even more.
I was catching the crazy, and there was only one thing to do. I called my luv Coach and through sniffles and sobs retold the whole story. She took me through a breathing exercise, which calmed me down so I could speak coherently, then led me through an exercise that allowed me to feel all these emotions and then release them. Like magic, I was in a calm state. After asking several questions, she showed me that Hank was the person I wanted to spend my birthday with, and he is the person who is most important to me. You want to face the issue and work to resolve it together so you grow closer! She stated with conviction.
I sent an e-mail letting Hank know that I would have lunch with him, and even though I felt calmer, I was still angry. I went to the gym to blow off some steam, and then cleaned up around the house. As I was folding laundry the front door opened. Glancing at the clock, I noticed he was three hours early. I was still in my gym clothes, no make up, and my hair looked like a hot mess. Hes probably scared that I might take off and not meet him for lunch. Ha! He held out a bouquet of the most beautiful arrangement of roses and lilies, but in my current mood I unenthusiastically replied Oh yeah thanks. Theyre pretty. In the other hand he held a bottle of champagne, and even though a glass of bubbly might make me feel better, I knew that booze exacerbates any heated situation and makes catching the crazy that much easier. Tucked under his arm, was a box, which by the size of it, had me guessing it was lingerie. The card was laced with sweet words, which helped to soften my mood a little, and as I opened the box, there was another box inside. Probably an upgrade on my diamond earrings. He grabbed the box out of my hand and bent down on one knee.
He opened it slowly and said, Analise, I love you with all my heart, and I want to marry you.
I was so baffled my limbs became weak. I felt like someone was hanging me upside down by my feet and my head was about to explode. I started crying all over again. I look a mess I croaked. He shook his head and smiled. No, you look perfect. This is the woman I fell in love with. The one I wake up to each morning. The one I want to spend my life with. I started to cry even harder as my throat dried up.
Do I get an answer? Is it a yes? He chided gently.
I shook my head furiously up and down, as he hugged and kissed my face.
He whispered into my ear, Im so sorry for last night, but the guys knew what I was going to do and they made me go out and celebrate. I promise to call next time, and let you know that Im fine.
In that moment I understood everything, and I was grateful for a luv coach who made sure I didnt catch the crazy, allowing me to experience one of the most beautiful days of my life.
Tofurkey Thanksgiving!
My holiday season began with a classic She Caught the Crazy! incident. I was invited to Connecticut to spend Thanksgiving with my boyfriends family. His parents had been divorced for some time, and had worked out a way for both of them to enjoy their children on this opening holiday season; two thanksgivings. We were to spend the afternoon at his mothers, and the evening with his father and his new family. Thanksgiving tradition in my boyfriends family started off with a morning of playing football. It was Fairfield vs. Bridgeport and to the victor went the bragging rights for the next year. Since I would be spending this holiday in a new place, (far from my family, who Im sure were enjoying waffles at that hour of the morning) I had hoped to go to the game and cheer on my beau. He made it quite clear that no one came to these games and that it was just a fun time for the players. Even though I insisted, he turned me down and I was left to spend the morning in bed curled up reading gossip magazines.
Deciding to brave the day, I plodded down to the kitchen in my pajamas where my boyfriends mother was doing dishes. On the counter next to her I noticed a recipe for Tofurkey. Having come from a family of Carnivores, the idea of eating Tofurkey was foreign to me, and it certainly did not inspire feelings of thanksgiving. I decided I would just have to make the best of it. After all this was the first man Id truly wanted to spend my life with, and I didnt want to start that life by insulting his family. Putting my best foot forward I decided to shower and get gorgeous for the festivities. When I was done, my boyfriend had come home, victorious, and with the news that they had had a record turnout of fans. Suddenly I felt a sting in my heart and my mind began to shift. The crazy thoughts began spinning in my head: Record turn out of fans? I thought no one came to these games. You said I would be the only one there, sitting all alone on the sidelines; poor, sad little me. Instead, I was laying around in this black hole of a bedroom while you and everyone in town were enjoying a football game in 60 degree sunshine. I felt hurt, and left out. I had been invited to a family holiday, but told I couldnt really participate. I knew that he didnt do it on purpose, but the crazy thoughts kept feeding my insecurity and I could feel the distance between us widen. I sensed that I was catching the crazy, and decided that I had better curb it since I had a full day of in laws ahead of me. I sat down and did a relaxation technique to center myself. When I felt calm, I shifted the negative thoughts in my mind to positive ones. My boyfriend loves me and he asked me not to come because he thought I would be sitting alone and bored on the sidelines. He made this choice because he believed it was in my best interest. We have a strong and loving relationship, and I know who I am within it. Next time I will trust my instincts. I am love.
I felt whole again, and I was ready to take on Thanksgiving Tofurkey.
We made our way downstairs, where the festivities were in full effect. The room was full of family and kids were running through the halls. I felt relaxed and welcome in this new family and sat down to watch the fun unfold. My boyfriends brother and brother in law brought up the football game and asked me why I had not come out. I didnt want to make my boyfriend look bad so I told them that I had been exhausted and that we had arrived very late the night before. You missed out on a hell of a game. The words stung like lemon juice in a paper cut. I smiled curtly, and let my face slide into a bitter scowl. They continued to talk about different plays and how great it was that their dad came out. I sat there stone faced trying to keep from expressing my bitter annoyance. Great! I thought. Now Im the stone cold bitch with the ice queen smile. After the conversation was over I thought that would be the last of game talk, but to my dismay, it was brought up continuously throughout the course of the day and by everyone in town. At his fathers house, where we celebrated thanksgiving #2, everyone talked of nothing else. Each person who attended had their version of The Play of the Day and proceeded to share it with the rest. When his friends came over late in the evening for cocktails the only source of conversation was the game. Even their girlfriends were in on it. I pictured them all sitting on the sideline sipping Bloody Marys and mimosas and rooting on their men. Everyone kept asking me the same question, Why werent you at the game? After a number of glasses of wine, the truth came blurting out. We were sitting at the dinner table at Thanksgiving #2, and instead of trying to protect my boyfriend I threw him under the train. I told everyone who brought it up that he forbade me to come to the game. Some thought it was funny and joked that he didnt want me to see how poorly he played football, while others just stared, not quite sure how to respond to my inebriated outburst. I felt self conscious and sorely left out. It reminded me of being the last kid picked in dodge ball, and I felt singled out as the loser at the party. My crazy thoughts kept trying to take over my mind and fill it with negative comments, but I knew that if I allowed myself to go down that road I would do something truly horrible. After all each time I mentioned that my boyfriend did not want me to come to the game, he too looked hurt.
It is my belief that we all have the opportunity to have love and give love, and that it is our negative beliefs that keep us from experiencing love to its fullest in our lives. The next day I sat my boyfriend down and I told him exactly how I felt. I explained the hurt I felt, and the feeling of isolation and lack of love, and through this communication he gave me exactly what I needed to hear. He said I didnt know everyone would be there. Last year it rained and there wasnt a single person watching. You know that you mean more to me than I could ever express with words, and I didnt want you to be bored, sitting on the sideline, all alone. He gave me a hug and a kiss and said I love you, and in the end that was all I wanted.
Prop 8
On the couch, squeezed in between my boyfriend of seven years and our two dogs, waiting for the presidential election to finally be over, I realized I had been holding my breath for some time now. It may have been seconds or minutes, but it felt like months as the most tumultuous and important election of my life time came down to the last few hours. I felt like a long distance runner in the 3000 meters, when he realizes that there is only 100 meters left to go. Although he can feel the relief of the finish line up ahead, he cant shake the nagging fear that some one else, with a little more stamina, could swoop in and steal his victory. Ian, the love of my life, surfed the channels...CNN, MSNBC, The Daily Show, watching carefully as some states turned blue and others red. Barack Obama was leading in electoral votes, and instead of succumbing to fear that had gripped me through out the Bush years, I decided to tap into the side of me that is filled with hope, love, devotion, and the belief that ,Yes we can!
At 11pm on November 4, 2008, the entire western seaboard of the United States turned blue on the election map, as the electoral votes for Obama surpassed the designated 270. Suddenly victory was ours, as my boyfriend and I leaped to our feet screaming, shouting, crying, hugging, and kissing. The dogs leaped and barked raucously as we allowed our enthusiasm to course through us in victory dances and cries of Hallelujah! The US was going to have its first african american president, who was a testament to my belief that there is nothing you cannot do, and nothing you cannot achieve in this life. I felt lighter and safer, and I believed that the course of my country and the course of the world as a global society was now on the path to peace, love, and prosperity.
We climbed into bed and cuddled up with the dogs. As Ian wrapped his strong arms around me, I felt so much love in our little family. Tonight I would shoo away the demons that had injected fear into my life and filled my mind and dreams with the panic of What ifs. What if I get pushed onto the subway tracks? What if someone attacks my pooches? What if a terrorist blows up another building? Tonight I will dream of the day that I get to make my relationship official. I will dream of my wedding, and the children I will adopt, and the kind of parents Ian and I will be. These are the dreams of love, and as I drifted slowly toward sleep, Ian kissed me gently on the forehead, murmuring I love you...
I awoke on November 5, with the sun shining through the blinds, and at the top of my lungs, I screamed "Its a new day!" Giving my dogs a kiss each, I danced into the kitchen and popped an espresso pod in the machine. Flicking on the TV, I listened intently to the morning highlights circling the election of our new president. ..."There was a record voter turnout, which left some people waiting for hours in the rain at the polls. In other news, Proposition 8 passed in California. This amendment to the state constitution restricts the definition of marriage to a union between a man and a woman, thus eliminating the right of same sex couples to marry." Once again I was holding my breathe. The world began to spin, and I had to sit down and brace myself to keep from vomiting.
I am black. I am a man, and I am in love with another man. My limbs sagged as my back pressed into the rough corners of the chair. The victory that had felt so sweet the evening before, now tasted stale in light of these new revelations. Suddenly I was a victim, being preyed upon by those who choose to hate, and they had snagged me in a trap. My heart ached as I realized that my dream of one day marrying Ian, was lost.
The weight of the world was upon my soul, but as I had been told by my father each morning "Time waits for no man! Move it! Scoot!" Dragging the burden of my depression to the bathroom, I got ready for work. My brain was a few seconds behind my body, and as I caught the image of my zombie state in the mirror, it made me chuckle. This is not the end of the war. This is only one battle lost. You shall live to fight again, and one day the dream of equal rights for all people will be realized.
As I stepped out into the brisk November morning , I felt lighter. Suddenly, the defeat that had chilled me earlier was replaced with a determined perseverance. I pictured myself as a warrior for equality, and I felt the blood of my ancestors course through me. They did not lay down in defeat, and accept racial, social and economic injustice. They struggled and fought for their rights to be human beings, and I will continue that struggle for the right to walk down the aisle and share my life with an amazing man.
As I ran toward the train, people on the streets were still celebrating the election. Chants of "Yes We Can!" emanated from groups as they slapped hands, and smiles extended from cheek to cheek. Checking the clock I realized I was running late, so I called my boss to let him know. I was excited again and couldn't contain my enthusiasm.
"Arent you excited about the election?" I asked giddily.
"Oh you know. I am sure who ever got the job, will do a good job. We'll have to wait and see. There are a lot of issues." He replied apathetically.
"Um..Okay? Im gonna be a few minutes late." I hung up quickly, and massaged the troubled wrinkle from my brow. I felt offended by his tone, because he lacked the passion that was electric in the air. It sounded like his response had been learned, as if he were a child who was repeating what his parents said.
I made my way into the office, and the long faces of my co-workers were in stark contrast to the reveling outside. Everyone seemed so dark and the atmosphere was bleak. I tried to force some positivity into the room.
"Arent you excited about the election? Its a new world!" I screamed.
I was met with blank stares, as the energy I injected crackled in the air, then dissipated. My eye twitched as negative thoughts began to swirl in my head. What is wrong with these people? They have the right to marry whom ever they choose. They have a new president who is going to make the world a positive place again, and yet they see no joy in life? What an unappreciative and pitiful group of people. Life is precious you morons! You might want to try and show it every once in a while.
The anger surged up my chest and clumped itself in a ball at the back of my throat.
"You guys have some darkness in your hearts. I hope you find the light, before all that darkness consumes you and you end up dying of cancer."
The words ripped out of my mouth before my brain could stop them. I had caught the crazy!
All heads turned in wide eyed surprise. Mouths dropped open, but only one comment rang forth. "Thats some messed up shit to say!"
I backed out of the room, and bolted. I can't believe I just said that. That was so inappropriate. Its just that one moment you think its all about you because we won, and then you realize its not about you. You wake up and the terminator is taking away your right to be a human being.
I ducked into the coffee room, as I heard Lanas voice call out behind me.
"Byron? Are you okay?"
I peeked out from behind the refrigerator door, and shook my head no.
"I am so sorry I said that! I was just flummoxed in the face of peoples apathy, and I want them to feel grateful that they have the right to marry whom ever they choose."
She smiled and nodded. "I understand. Its a hard day for you. Everyone is caught up in their own worlds today, and as you know it hasn't been easy around here. With all of these companies downsizing people are worried that they may not have a job tomorrow. I think their apathy is really a fear of having hope. Its easier to feel numb, so that when the axe comes down, it won't be as painful."
"God! When you put it like that, I feel even worse." I cried.
She laughed and held out her arms for a hug. "The prejudice will always be there, but the laws should never uphold prejudice. Yesterday, civil rights allowed for Barack Obama to become president. Tomorrow, gay rights will allow for you to marry whom ever you choose. Keep fighting."
"I should probably apologize, huh?" I asked sheepishly.
"That would be a good idea," she smiled.
Rebecca Brody
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(646) 229-2748
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