I am a crazy magnet. I seriously attract crazy people to me all the time. And, when I say crazy, I am not referring to people who walk down the city streets mumbling to themselves pushing a shopping cart. These are not people that are awaiting their personalized straightjackets and an open room at the mental hospital, they are average everyday people who seem perfectly normal on the outside but are actually cukoo for cocoa puffs on the inside. You know who I am talking about. And they all gravitate towards me.
I’m not exactly sure what the draw is towards me except that I seem to be exceptionally gifted at dealing with these crazies. I am so good at accommodating the narcissists or indulging the megalomaniacs or reassuring the terminally insecure. I have, without a doubt, been put on this earth to exert futile efforts to cure the ills of these crazy people that come into my life on a regular basis. Between just about every single member of my family who has some personality disorder or another, to so many of my friends and colleagues over the years who were either borderline personalities or narcissists, I have run the gamut of crazy and I just need a break. Sometimes I wonder if there is anyone who is actually “normal”.
It is kind of a phenomenal idea, when you think about it, that I have this natural attraction towards these individuals. For one person to be continually drawn into the grips of mentally unstable people and be subjected to their odd behaviors and personality disorders is almost beyond belief. You would think that after going through this time after time after time that I would begin to recognize the signs of crazy and go running in the other direction. But, in fact, it is just the opposite. These people have such a unique appeal that I am drawn in like a moth to a flame. I go in, eyes wide open, and then come out months or years later not knowing what hit me. Shocked that I had been subjected, once again, to some form of crazy.
I am raising my white flag and surrendering because I clearly cannot win the battle against the crazies. I have spent most of my life trying to sort out my own issues, ensure that I am accountable for my behavior and that I am not unwittingly leaving behind trauma on those around me. I have worked hard at making sure that I have a level of self-awareness that I can comfortably acknowledge my strengths and weaknesses and be authentic about who I am and who I am not. However, many of the people I have surrounded myself with in life are the polar opposites of that. I often ponder what it is, really, about them that allows me to set aside my standards and allow them to corrupt the harmony of my peaceful existence. I sometimes think it is simply my journey in life and I need to learn how to manage people like that rather than allowing them to interfere with my happiness. I suppose that if I am capable of having a “healthy” relationship or interaction with one of the crazies then I have made forward motion in my life.
Or, perhaps, it is simply bad luck. Either way, I guess, if the definition of crazy is that you do the same thing and expect a different outcome, I would be crazy to think that I could have normal, healthy dealings with these crazy people. Perhaps I need to fine tune my radar and extend my tentacles up a little higher so that I can create a crazy-free zone in my life. I really, really want to live a life where I don’t have to deal with the unanticipated outbursts from someone I merely look at the wrong way or the bizarre rage that has nothing to do with me. Or the passive aggressive behavior. God, I hate the passive aggressive behavior. That just puts me over the edge. If you are mad, then be mad. If you feel like I hurt your feelings, then just say it. Don’t do something completely unrelated to try to make me feel bad just to get revenge because you do not have enough courage to face me directly. That is pure crazy!
I say all this with the knowledge that I am living in an almost crazy-free environment now. I have purged a lot of those folks who exhibited that behavior but I live in fear of the next time, when I am not paying attention and crazy slips through my door.