Crazy, Just like me.

I hear that a lot. Why, do you blog the way you do? Why do you put things out in the world that way?  I hear why almost as much and as often as I hear that I shouldn't.  I also hear questions of if its all real or all imagination if I am truly crazy.

I'd like to be all altruistic and say " I do it because I know it will help someone else." While that is part of it, Its not the whole of it. I'd be lying if I said it was my only motivation.
I've been honest when I say that the manner in which I blog is simply a release for me. Its a way of getting whats in me out.
Close your eyes for a minute and think of that one thing you do that gives you that rush at the end, not the rush of hard pumping adrenaline where you can't catch your breath, but that rush of peace, security and well being that you feel at the end of the adrenaline dump.
Thats why I do it. Its the way that I find peace in myself. Well, one of the ways.

And a long time a go I recognized that I am not the only one that feels the way I do. I know (from quiet emails) that my words strike cords with many. Some people wish they could say what I say. Some people  wish I'd just shut up.  Some people find themselves in my words and some worry that others will find them hidden in my words.

But there are times when the words are not my reality. They aren't exactly how I am feeling about someone, but how I fear that someone maybe viewing me.  Some times they are a mix of my views and someone elses.

And lots of times they are fantasy... a character steps forward and has this amazing monologue and its beautiful. So I pen it down for them and then they step back. As was the case with "girlfriends".  True, I could so agree with some of what she was saying...I knew a person like that, hell I know a couple of people who probably look at me like that. What she ( the character ) had to say, resonated within me.
It was true for me...and it many ways it was probably universally true for a lot of people.

A lot of people get upset by my blogs. And when I sit back and analyze those closest to me, I realize they are upset because they recognize something in my words about themselves.  See their insecurities parallel with mine. Maybe find accusation hidden between the letters. Something resonates with them and its uncomfortable.

And I know that feeling well, the uncomfortable ache. Your skin is too tight, your breath is too shallow.
How dare you kill me softly? I've seen myself in others words, learned about myself in the pages of a strangers notes. Found myself in rambling wildly.

I remember, when I lost my mind...and yeah I think you're crazy...just like me.