hysterical

“This is hysterical,” I said, pointing to my face.

It was toward the end of an argument with Ming, and we were in the kitchen.  I finally took a break to pee then cook some breakfast.

“I’m not saying you’re hysterical,” Ming said.

“No–I know you’re not,” I replied.  “I’m just saying this is what women have been accused of being for centuries because we have feelings and notice shit.  It’s the rational vs feeling dichotomy.  It’s super misogynist.  I have a lot of feelings, so I’m irrational and make no sense.  I’m hysterical.  I can’t be trusted.”

“But you’re making total sense,” Ming said.

“Yeah, you can see that,” I said.  “You’re smarter than that, and you’re not a dude.  But a lot of people, what matters to them is stuff and money.  If it’s not about making money, it’s not important.  Feelings are irrelevant.”

feelings

I was talking with my friend about her boyfriend–things are getting more serious.  So I wanted to know if this guy was responsible, and does he have substance abuse issues?  I asked pointed questions.

Ming can’t do that.  He squirms, to ask things that are very personal.  Maybe that’s why he can maintain almost any relationship indefinitely.  He keeps things pleasant.  Also, people mostly don’t hurt him.

I’m the opposite–what Ming doesn’t even notice can seriously harm me.  I’m hurtable and harmable.  Probably you can imagine how hard that is, to compare myself to Ming and his chill stability, when I am hella vulnerable and overwhelmed with pain or rage.

It’s easy for me to compare my reactions to Ming’s and think I’m fucked up and it’s just me.  Since he and I are on opposite sides of the upsetable spectrum, I question myself and doubt my own responses to things.  Even more than I otherwise would, after a lifetime of being told I’m too sensitive, over thinking, over feeling, and too much.

I am not too much, but it’s a lot of work to remind myself that.

As for asking the pointed questions, I squirm when I can’t ask.  I need to talk about the real stuff, or else I go in circles on my own, wondering.

hysterical

Hysterical is an old idea about women going nuts because our wombs are traveling around in our bodies.  You know the word starts like hysterectomy.  That pesky womb is causing problems again.  She’s having emotions and getting difficult to control– lock her up.

Being crazy is a big part of my everyday life, my identity, and my work.  My ancestors put me here to speak the truth, which is a great way to get considered crazy in a family, community, or society.  My ancestors put me here to do work like art and radical mental health and ally with other crazy people.  I’m happy to accept this gift.

Then gender is a big deal also.  Who decided facts are rational and matter, while feelings change and can’t be trusted?  I didn’t decide that.  Did you?

My life is made of feelings.  They matter, and in a hierarchy of reality, why choose.  All ways of knowing can help us toward the truth.  I’m not hysterical for feeling.  Thank Mother God that Ming feels too and agrees.