In which I discuss my psychosis . . .

Despite my dearly-held belief that I have people figured out, that I can accurately sum up people’s feelings, that I can read the mood of a group . . . I have a horrible time actually doing this when I am involved.

I do this all the time: I’ll say something or do something, and then seriously start to worry that I’ve been bitchy, snarky, or otherwise gauche in some way. And once that happens, the worry starts to take over my brain. I feel like I should apologize to someone, or go out of my way to be super-nice. See, I’m not a bitch! I’m a great fun girl that you should like and want to be friends with!

I have no sense of perspective.

And, conversely, if I’m feeling sensitive, things that are said and done start to make me worry. Who’s talking about me? They probably didn’t tell me about that because they don’t like me. I didn't get invited because people don't want to hang out with me. Etc. It’s ridiculous. When I hear other people get paranoid like this, I laugh at them. And yet . . . when it comes to me, I’m completely without clarity. Everything has some kind of negative significance, everything feels like a personal rejection.

I’m sick of caring so much, of overreacting, of being oversensitive. I try really, really hard to be practical, to remind myself that “this doesn’t mean what you’re imagining that it means.” And I KNOW that I'm doing it! Taking the small, slightly negative things as just a sign of a much bigger rejection, and the positive things as just words. Things that people say, that they don’t really mean.

How does that even make sense?

And yet, despite my best attempts to be rational and practical and self-aware and full of healthy perspective, I still find myself upset or sad or angry or all three.

Tim and I were talking about this recently. About the way that people (okay, mostly girls) tend to make big deals out of small things. A word here, an email there, and suddenly she’s facedown on the bed in tears or stomping around the house in anger. I don’t know what to do about that. I mean, it might be a small thing, but, for whatever reason, it seems packed with larger significance.

And who’s to say it isn’t packed with larger significance? (The man!). But why does he get to determine the meaning of the situation? If she thinks it’s a big deal, and he doesn’t . . . well, either one of them could be right. Can feelings be labeled “right” and “wrong?” (I can hear Tim saying "yes.")

I didn’t mean to turn this into a post on the nature of truth. People are just crazy sometimes. I am crazy sometimes, and I wish I could just chill. But since I obviously can’t, I’m going to have find some way to deal.