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Taken from: http://thedoghousediaries.com/3291

Sigh.  At the risk of posting a serious threat to my credibility as a human, the girl in this comic is *sometimes* me. I swear I am a healthy, well-adjusted adult in a healthy adult well-adjusted relationship with a healthy well-adjusted person. No drama here, no poor decisions with men/women/unsure, I try hard in school, healthy and realistic self-perceptions (how can’t they be when I’m THIS awesome?) and just a generally stable person. I am like a poster child for normal. Boring is probably a better word. But sometimes I say or do something, like in the above comic and my boyfriend just goes …

I’m crazy. It is a special kind of crazy that I am cautious to brand all females with, but I think stereotypes did that before me anyway. And I would like to take the time to excuse myself and other females who share my affliction, and attempt to explain the meaning behind the madness.

For me, there are two types of crazy I exhibit. Firstly, there is what I will hereby coin “sanecrazy.” Sanecrazy occurs when one is considering a problem or trying to make a decision out loud when one is completely unsure of what they want. By doing this, the individual is seeking opinions on her problem in order to help reach the decision.  It might seem like she is seeking answers, but this is not the case. The girl in this comic is a great example of this. She’s considering a haircut, but this is a dramatic  step for her because, like me, she is pathologically attached to her hair (and if anyone comes near it with anything sharp you better WATCH YOURSELF FOOL). So the decision is – do I cut my hair short? The girl has a boyfriend, whose opinion she values, and to whom she would like to be attractive. So she asks the question. And we go through the motions above.

I sympathise with the guy, I really do see his perspective – he doesn’t care one way or another. She could change the entirety of her appearance and he probably wouldn’t even notice. He’ll notice the slight continuity issue in a film, oh boy will he notice that, but he doesn’t care about your hair as much as he does about movie professionalism.  But apathy is not an option for her, because it is quite likely she has an opinion on EVERYTHING and can’t fathom that her partner doesn’t share her…”attention to detail.” The mistake the girl in this comic is making is that she is not asking another girl, because another female would weigh up pros and cons of having short hair, analyse her facial structure to ascertain whether short hair would suit her and if so, how the hair should be cut, if the hair would have to be dyed a different colour to suit the cut and so on. This conversation could last quite a while. The reason why I have coined it sanecrazy, is that there is at least some method or reasoning behind what might seem completely absurd and erratic behaviour. It’s not really that crazy when you see it from our perspective.

The second type of crazy ain’t got none of that. This is the type of crazy women hate admitting they have, but the way I see it, why avoid when you can embrace. Nature is wonderful. This crazy is more commonly known as PMS, or for me, sugar pill syndrome.

You see, I am on the strongest contraceptive pill you can find, because my female parts are stubborn as hell and require a good dosing with hormones just to stop any bad behaviour. Anyone who has half a clue how the brain works will know how hormones effect human behaviour. In fact, they drive a hell of a lot of it for both men and women (boys, when you pick a fight with that guy outside of clubs, arguably that’s the testosterone talking). So back to my point, imagine being on a hellish dose of hormones most of the time, which my body has adjusted to, then completely removing the presence of those hormones. In brain world, that’s about as catastrophic as taking away most of the world’s food and the ensuing war for what’s left. This is not Sparta, people, it’s just madness. Feeling great one second, then for actually no reason at all, feel like someone has killed my whole family. Or most commonly, like the universe has thrown the gauntlet and IT’S ON. I’m tired all day then as soon as it is time to go to bed I’m bouncing off the walls. The only benefit to all this is that it teaches my boyfriend what it might be like to have a child, which he was already not that keen on anyway. Hell, a child would be better than what I become.

Now as an adult, I know I have the sufficient pre-frontal cortex growth to control my behaviour, which is why “my hormones made me do it” is not a valid argument in court. I try, but mostly I feel like I am having an out of body experience and a lunatic has taken over my body. PMS and sugar pill syndrome are not excuses for being crazy, but I hope it serves as an explanation as to what the hell is going on. Think of us women as your very own werewolves. Like lycanthropy, no one would say the werewolf is truly who one is, but it is a part of the person. At least we don’t bite. Often.

….So I had just finished writing this article when my boyfriend entered the room and actually just licked my face like a dog. I take it back. Men are crazy too.

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