When I was 8 years old, I was put into a children’s psychiatric hospital as an out patient. Meaning, it was like School for me. Go in and go out. I was put into it because I was crying in school a lot. It was like a very ugly habit. I have made sense of some of it as an adult. I was an anxious kid. The short version. Other kids there were very VIOLENT. I was never beaten but did see the results of other kids being attacked. As a result of that year of my life, I endured a lot of mental illness teasing. Harassment. Ridicule for many years. I dealt with my issues with drugs and alcohol in my teens. I voluntarily sought help from psychiatrists. I read much about minds and emotion. About mental health. I still do. My identity for many years seemed to be, “mentally ill person”. Something like that. 

But that changed. 

I am Scott who has some problems some times and far fewer in mind NOW than ever before. I can look inside myself and SEE what is ailing me. I know my emotions and mind states. I do not deny anything about me. I am like a computer that examines itself. Runs checks on all mental systems. On my emotions. 

I have come to see and understand that the sickest people in the world are not nor ever were those like me that were given help and then kept going in life and GOT MORE HELP.  The sickest people are those IN DENIAL OF THEIR OWN MENTAL ILLNESSES. Those often with power over others. Those that may suspect something is sick inside themselves but have not the courage to open it up and look at it or are in denial of what sickness is THERE. 

I used-to think I was weak with a label of “mentally ill” due to an anxiety disorder and being very sensitive. As I grew, I realized I was the STRONG one because I could FACE my problems. I could FACE  drug and alcohol problems while others pointed the finger at those around them and lived in denial of their own sickness and flaws. I came to see that being “sensitive” was a blessing and a curse because I could feel deeply not only of myself but of Others – and that feeling others was such a blessing.  A GIFT at times. 

I had a big strong older brother that would ridicule me for how I was, so weak to him and his friends. So weird! I learned who the truly SICK person was when my mother lay dying and much of the family wept around her except for… my big strong older brother who could not cry or let himself cry. I felt for him. Having had much practice all my life, I wanted to reach inside him and show him how to weep. To immerse yourself in grief and as the tears flowed… let go. 

I dropped the label of being “crazy” long ago. Now when someone calls me that I embrace it, laugh about it and jokingly seriously correct them: “I am not crazy. I am creatively ECCENTRIC!”.

I look at the insanity in the houses of power in the USA and world. At how some have few qualms about killing masses of humans and other life forms and think… “Now THOSE are some CRAZY SICK  BASTARDS”.  I look at the insanity of the president of the USA. Of how many psychiatrists have talked about how clinically insane he is and I think….

Damn but I am one sane sonofabitch….

And a bit Eccentric too 😉

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