Madness

How do we measure madness? I know it isn’t supposed to be called madness as only dogs get mad ( or so I have been told ) But I have just read a book assigned to me by our book club about Ted Bundy. It made me question madness and how people can appear one way and then act another way. At what point in our lives do we decide which side of the coin to play? Is it found in the cute little two year old that bites every one? Is it found in the decisions that we make every day? Do we chose with each decision to play the good guy or the bad guy? Are these decisions chosen because of our training or is this a genetic problem? Reading this book made me question my parenting skills. Did I give each of my children enough early childhood attention? Did I discipline too much or not enough? Did I help them to find the world around them to be a wonderful place and the people around them to be worthy of their love and attention? Did I encourage them to be the best person that they could be? Was the lack of a male role model a bad thing as even when their Dad lived with us, he didn’t like normal kids that can get messy? Did I over compensate for this? Did the flaws in me, over shadow my intentions with my children? How could I not have fostered some madness as I live with it. In our family we have a name for it. We call it a Harris Syndrome. This syndrome is real and has been handed down to many relatives. A lot of them suffer from depression for this reason. Some even have low self-esteem. ( I have to admit that I have been in these categories several times. ) Somewhere along the way, I remember a class that taught me to be real. If I feel sad, it was OK to cry. If I am angry, it is OK to be angry. It is not OK to be sad for no reason or to hide the anger one feels, but I have to admit that I am a rather good actress at times. I think I was fifteen or sixteen when I found the clipping of the death of my Grandfather who shot himself out in the woods, leaving a widow with six children. My mom was the oldest at home so she stepped into the role of farmer. She was plagued with bouts of depression as long as I can remember. My Dad used to take her places to get her out of these moods. He said that he would come home on a Wednesday and ask if she would like to go to Chicago or somewhere for the weekend as a family. So with three small children to get ready, she would plow into all of this and the depression was gone. Mom was lucky that my Dad was hyper and loved to travel. They did this all their lives. So at what point does one lose their bearings and latch onto an addiction that spins into madness? Could it be a point of loss so great that life holds no meaning? What kind of loss would that be? The death of a little white kitten? Seeing an accident where someone is mangled beyond recognition? Could it come from rejection so great that nothing matters? The book that I read wanted us to believe that his rejection by a woman created his addiction to killing them. The book also talked about the fact that this man had no working knowledge of love. The love of a good book or of a wonderful song or of a painting or a plant. He didn’t know how to love. At what point do we learn to love. I have seen it in the eyes of a 2 day old child. I have seen it in the eyes of a very old lady. I have seen love all around me and I know how to love but the syndrome is still there. It is at these times that I am required to find something to love. We are very complex beings and hopefully we are given ways to cope with the things that are thrown at us from time to time. Where do we learn how to do this? It isn’t in school, I can tell you that from experience. Rejection is a big part of public education. As one of the smallest in any of my classes; I was the last to be chosen by any team. How about being the last to get breasts and having to shower in front of all the “big” kids. This subject has me wondering how DOVE soap thinks it can instill self-esteem in any junior high school girl. (I can’t speak for the boys) Is madness trained out of us in religious training? Somehow I think not. I remember bible stories but they didn’t talk a lot about morals, or perhaps I wasn’t listening. THOU SHALL NOT KILL was a biggy but we kill to live. We kill the chicken. We kill the fish to survive. This planet isn’t about not killing, just not killing people we know or friends. Somewhere here I am losing the “Good guy” stuff. So let’s bomb Iraq? What did we learn from the “good guys”? We want people to follow the rules but there are so many that someone like Ted gets lost in them. If I don’t get caught, it is OK? Now that is starting to sound like our government again. How do most people keep their balance and still try to follow the rules? I guess the real question is: are we all mad to a degree and we all work very hard to keep it in check?