Saturday, December 1, 2012

What constitutes crazy?


More like a whisper than a cloud.

What is crazy? I've been thinking about it a lot.

Am I crazy? I'm a shaman, I have spirit guides and animal guides and past lives. I talk to the cloud people, the gods of weather and ghosts, of course, all the time. I listen to the Voice in the Shower, take shamanic journeys to the upper and lower worlds, etc. You might think I'm crazy, but I'm not. At least I'm not according to a therapist I saw for many years in San Francisco.

When I first admitted to my mystical tendencies, she asked me these questions: Do your spirit guides command you? The answer: no. They make suggestions, but it's never as if I must obey them. In fact, I often ignore the advice. I am forever skeptical.

She asked if they ever suggested destructive acts. Never. They suggest kindness, compassion, and good humor. They encourage artful expression of what comes to me, nothing more.

She asked if I could differentiate between my guides and living humans. Of course I can! Good lord.

She asked if I thought others should share my version of reality. Hell no. No one has to see the world as I do. That would be silly.

At that point, she pronounced me sane. And even though I was depressed and weird during the years I practiced magic, I never got lost in the magic, though during that time I was swamped by sadness and old psychic wounds. All that is behind me now, but I continue to ask myself the questions my therapist posed, to make sure. I am not interested in going off the deep end.

I was thinking about it last night as the stalker aggressively banged on my front door. I'm assembling the creepy notes and letters she has left for me, as well as the numerous, equally creepy texts. I'll need these things to petition for an order of protection. I also have on hand the many texts I've sent her, stating clearly that we have no relationship, that I don't want a relationship with her, that she is unwelcome and that I will call the police if she persists.

Last night while she was pounding on the front door, as I dialed 911 I thought, "She thinks I'm going to answer the door. She thinks I'll be happy to see her."

Now that is crazy.

She departed before the police arrived, but it's important to call them, for the record. It's necessary in order to get the protection order. What a bizarre episode. I'm not the first, nor will I be the last, to be stalked by a deranged person. She is very disturbed.

May she turn away from me forever and find a way back to clarity. May it be so.


Setting up for the inauguration.

3 comments:

ellen abbott said...

Sorry to hear the stalker is back. And no, you are not crazy. This culture is crazy though with its tendency to slice up human behavior and assign the slices disorders, forever narrowing what is considered 'normal' human behavior.

Elizabeth said...

Oh dear!
Do hope this all gets resolved soon --probably won't as the stalker sounds all of sad, mad and possibly BAD.
Poor Reya.
I don't think YOU are mad at all just sensitive to all sorts of things.
Sending much love.

Reya Mellicker said...

Thanks, Elizabeth!

No stalker yesterday. Yay!

Onwards and upwards.