What does your crazy look like? Does it scare you? Is it an ally, giving you permission to act outside the box? What do you do with other people who think you are crazy? What elements of grieving have made you feel most isolated and separate? What elements have made you feel the most normal, human, and sane?
We knew what happened 2 times. We didn't know why. And so I screamed at birds. And then we didn't even know what happened the third time. And so I screamed at birds.
I used to think crows were a lucky symbol for me. I swear one followed me around Columbus, Ohio the third time I took the bar exam...and finally passed.
I used to get excited about birds. Bluebirds, goldfinches, redwing blackbirds...
And now I f---ing hate birds.
Just a LITTLE bit crazy?