psycho

psycho
nutcase
wackdoodle
batty
freak
crazy
insane
barmy
nuts
out of one’s tree
screwy
unhinged
loony
mental
erratic
cracked
beyond all reason
nonsensical
wild
bats in the belfry
schizo
unglued

etc.....

there are countless adjectives men use to describe women in that frenzied state, when the feel misunderstood. nothing made my blood boil more fervently than when my now ex-husband would call me psycho. he'd do it deliberately in the heat of a disagreement, to rile me more. with the use of this one little word, he would upset the order of my mental state and instantaneously prove he was right.

what is it with us girls? why do we get so bent out of shape in the company of lovers? we are brilliant multi-tasking cool as a cucumber pillars of strength in any other situation.

when the universe is colliding with my dimension and everything seems to be going wrong, a switch goes off inside me and I go into “taking care of business” mode. I go into a calm state of awake. tackling tasks and problem solving become my mode of operandi, as I take care of any business at hand.

in the heat of disaster, I can breathe and manage a myriad of things without a hint of emotion. when my car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, or my son begins freaking out over something that seems gigantic to a seven year old, or a fire breaks out in the kitchen or any other crazy thing happens, I just breathe and deal.

none of it bugs me, it’s all just life.

but as soon as my heart is invested in a man, my sense of cool goes on hiatus. my focus turns, and all the events of the day seem a little less manageable. emotions surge. I feel things. the ice queen melts.

I’d love to try and take credit for being the only Ms. Jeckel and Hyde I know, but sadly, I confess, all the women I know suffer this way. The other night, one of my mentors said, “Love is the Opiate of Women.” perhaps we really all are Love Junkies at heart. when love is new and present, we float in a state of love induced high, impervious to troubles and zoned out in fantasy. At the first signs of rejection, we feel withdrawal, pain, the shakes, the sweats and all of our self-centered fears emerge.

there are many “rules” chicks are taught to follow in order to hide the fact that women are love-crazed lunatics from their men. books and books have been crafted on the subject of how women can quell their inner psycho, to portray a cool calm collected savvy hip chick with nothing better to do than be gorgeous. trust me, this portrayal that woman are like this is false!

I fancy myself the chill, laid back type. and compared to most, I really am. but like every girl out there, I’ve got my triggers… memories of abandonment imprinted from daddy to the men of my present all flood back at the signs of any sort of rejection. hey, this isn’t something unique to me, all girls suffer this torture.

one of the things I absolutely find endearing about my lesbian friends is their ability to hone in and craft entire relationships around this girl obsessed estrogen based brand of love crazy. They feed on each other’s wacky love thing, and parlay it into passion, no we’re just friends, and sex and no we’re just friends and we’re partners and passion and ….. etc….. roller coaster of two women at the controls. Yowwwwwsa. talk about highs and lows and a lust for drama.

I usually end my blog entries with a solution. But unfortunately, until my boobs fall off and I grow a penis, there is no cure.

so the only thing I figure I can do at this juncture is end the seeking and do nothing. not sure how long this stint will last, but if I focus on all the stuff I tackle well, my writing, my profession, my school work, being super mom and my spiritual practice, the other romance stuff can’t cloud my ability to get “life” done.

today I set a new intention to myself. I’m in a relationship with me, at least I know I’m gonna call myself back! and I’m a great listener, good cook and I am really really good in bed, lol.