EXACTLY.

It seems like there have been a lot of Mommy Wars lately. Or at least a lot of talking about these Mommy Wars. The media has learned that there are hot-button topics that will get people talking – maybe arguing – online. Meaning their articles will get read by the masses in Facebook posts, Tweets and blog entries.

But you know what? In the 17 years of being a Mom – I’ve never been part of a Mommy War. I have started classifying them like I do Extra Terrestrials. I believe they exist…but I’ve never seen one first-hand.

The majority of us, when faced with a Mom who does things differently from us, simply accepts that and MOVES ON. The majority of us don’t fight about who is “mom enough”. The majority of us aren’t even 100% sure we’re doing the right thing, definitely not convicted enough to proclaim us a champion Mom in any way.

Most of us Moms are simply doing the best we can…one day at a time. We know every family is different, every child is different, and – most importantly – every Mom is different.

We see the cover of Time magazine and simply roll our eyes and say: You suck, Time. That cover serves no other purpose but to be inflammatory. I’m not falling for it so instead I’ll pick up this trash mag that tells me about Snooki’s Pregnancy. Because at least Snooki is not trying to rile me up about my parenting. At least, not yet.

(Disclaimer: I do not actually read trashy magazines about Snooki’s Pregnancy. When it comes to guilty pleasures I’m more on the cheesy Young Adult Fiction Concerning Boarding Schools And Sexcapades side of things instead of the Trashy Tabloid side of things.)

Most Moms? Don’t fall for it. We don’t worry about whether Time thinks we’re Mom Enough. We don’t have time to worry about it. We’re too busy trying to snag up one of those 50 extra yearbooks the school ordered since we forgot to pre-order one in the beginning of the year. (True Story!) We’re too worried about how we’re going to be at two ball games at once. We’re wondering if McDonald’s three nights in a row for dinner is cause for a child abuse claim. We’re just trying to keep our kids fed, educated, and happy. We’re not arguing with other Moms about how to do that.

No…we’re doing just the opposite. We’re supporting each other. Most of us don’t give two damns about whether or not you co-slept or cried it out. Not if you need the support of a community while you go through a divorce. Not if you’re caring for a dying parent. Not if your trying to get pregnant again.

No. Time after time again we are a supportive group of people who care more about whether or not you’re getting treatment for your PPD than if you’re nursing. We are more concerned with your happiness than your diapering technique. We come together and build each other up a million more times than we tear each other down.

So…I’ll just keep ignoring it all. I’m not going to participate in these media-fueled Mommy Wars because in my world? They don’t exist. The Moms in my community, both online and off, fight all the same challenges I face as a mother. They’re standing WITH me, not against me. They’ve got my back. They’re on my team. They’re in my trench.

The only Mommy War I’m familiar with is the one where we’re all on the same side…fighting with each other, not against.

So, one of E’s good friends (and prom date this year) just so happens to be a mega-talented photographer. She came last weekend to family dinner and took a BOAT LOAD of photos of our extended family as a gift to my mother-in-law for Mother’s Day. She has been wanted a group shot of us all since the most recent grandchild was born, over a year-and-a-half ago! It went really well and now the toughest part is which picture do I hang up and where? She even took some AMAZING picture of my mother-in-law’s dog which may be the ones the end up getting top billing around her house. They’re THAT good.

But my favorite is that she took a bunch of candids of us jumping on the trampoline. And it turns out? My daughter is quite an aggressive trampoline-er. Who knew? I have decided that this one needs to be somehow set as the “default” picture WordPress uses as the FEATURED image for each blog post I do when I’m ranting about something. I also want this to be our Christmas Card picture with a caption that says something like, “I AM THE QUEEN OF THE TRAMPOLINE! ALL SHOULD BOW BEFORE ME!”

Or something like that…

• Someone got their first library card! And read THREE books this weekend. Two of them are CHAPTER BOOKS! Looks like we got another reader in the family! I can not tell you how excited this makes me. EEK.
• Do you know who One Direction is? I discovered them through Michael Buckley awhile a go, but now they’re totally popular in the US with the teen girls! So I’m totally hip now! Who knew? Anyway…one of the boys in this British boy band is Harry Styles and he has hair a bit like E’s. And they both have big, sweet smiles. Several have commented to us that they look alike, but nothing quite like what happened to us last week. E was getting yogurt at a frozen yogurt shop and felt like this group of girls was talking about him. When he turned around, they all had their phones out taking his picture. He came outside with me and the group followed and one of them said, “Did you know you look just like Harry Styles? Can we have our picture made with you?” They all gathered around him while their Mom took their picture. It was THE MOST HYSTERICAL THING EVER. Seriously. I was laughing so hard my face hurt.
• How much do you love the Doritos Locos from Taco Bell? Because we ADORE them. I mean…it’s like someone thought: How do we make a taco from Taco Bell more synthetic? I know! Let’s replace the shell with a DORITO! And that combination of low quality taco meat and orange flavor dust created something miraculous! E took his friend there for Doritos Locos before a big formal this weekend. Suit and Gown and all!
• TV! OH MY GOD! Have you been watching all of the season finales of our favorite shows? Parks and Rec! The Vampire Diaries! Once Upon A Time! Fringe! I don’t want to talk about these things right here because I don’t want to spoil anyone but if you talk about them in the comments I’ll come and say…OH MY GOD! Especially if you’re talking about Elena. ELENA! And Tyler. TYLER!
• I read Insurgent. I reviewed it spoiler-free here but I’m listening to it on audiobook too so I can really process my thoughts. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but I liked Divergent better. And I liked Insurgent, just not sure loved it. Have you read it? What are your thoughts?
• My party went GREAT. We had so much fun! Why do I get so stressed about these things when I end up having so much fun? As soon as everyone left Donnie said to me, “Why don’t we do that more often?” Which is a VERY good question. Why don’t we? So…we’re going to try to do it more. Maybe again at the end of the summer. Either way…a perfect example as to why it’s good to take a chance and put yourself out there. Which is EXACTLY what Jenny talks about in her book. It got very meta.
• MY MARATHON IS SATURDAY. OH. MY. GOD. I don’t really know what else to say about that. Because I’m still kinda freaking about it. So, I’ll stick with: OH. MY. GOD.

It's not quite Beyonce, so I'm calling him Solange

There was also that time that I was invited to my book club for the first time. My book club which I now ADORE with every ounce of my soul. I freaked out for an hour before about what to wear…I freaked out about what to bring, how much to bring…I freaked about what to talk about…and I forced E to go with me. (That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was at his friend’s house and she was going to be there too since we were talking about “Mockingjay”.)

I actually think I use my book club often as that catalyst for pushing me out into the world. It was something I made a decision to do, even though I was so terrified I made my teenage son come with me, and it worked out to be AWESOME in every way possible. The last book club we had? I went straight from a run, covered in sweat. I left my shoes in the car and one of my sweaty shirts on the front porch. That’s how comfortable I am with these ladies now. It was worth all the anxiety.

Donnie has remarked before about how far I’ve come. I have book club friends, theatre friends, boot camp friends, running friends, and blogging friends. If I’m talking about someone I have to clarify where they fit into my life. 2-3 years ago? If I was talking about someone, it was my friend I’ve had since E was a baby. Because she was the only friend I was close enough to for years to actually talk about.

But tomorrow night, I’m have a party that I’ve invited people from all areas of my life to. It’s a party/book club for Jenny’s book, which seems the PERFECT motivation to conquer my social anxieties. Because – while I’ve gotten loads better – I’m still terrified! AAACK. People are coming to my house! The carpets are stained! I didn’t make cake poppers! I never got that one print in the mail that I wanted to hang in that one spot and now it’s blank and it looks weird!

It helps that Lisa and Sarah are hosting with me because I can blame them if something goes wrong. (Just kidding, ladies! Maybe!) But it’s also so exciting…a party! For my friends! At my house! I’ve never done this before. I had an engagement/wedding party for a friend once, but those people were her friends. I had a Harry Potter party once, but I wasn’t stressed because it was mostly kids. Harry Potter! Can’t go wrong there.

This is a grown-up gathering…AT MY HOUSE. I’m freaking out about where to put all of my dining room chairs so they’re not blocking the food on the table. How do I hide my carpet? Which bathroom should I send guests to? (This is always the hard one because most guests hang out downstairs but the bathrooms are in the bedrooms downstairs, the “public” bathroom is upstairs and that seems SO FAR AWAY.) Nervous! Excited! WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?

Either way. I’m proud. Some days I’m more proud of my friends than of the miles I’m running. Because – while those miles are therapy in their own way – my friends let me send them crazy emails that say things like, “Tell me why I’m not punching my husband in the face right now?” (Just kidding, hon! I love you!) (Like he reads my blog…) My friends let me text them when I’ve made myself sick from binging on chocolate chip muffins. My friends let me call them to relay funny stories about my son getting Paparazzi’ed because he looks like Harry Styles from One Direction.

In other words? I’ve learned that sucking up the social anxieties and putting myself out there has brought immeasurable joys in my life. I’m still a mess before social engagements. ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ARE AT MY HOUSE. But I remind myself the joys that making friends has brought me in my life. And that, each time I take a chance, I’m rewarded 10-fold. No matter how nervous I am, how many stupid things I say, or what items I trip over or what foods I spill on my clothes…I still have found plenty of women who don’t hold any of those things against me. Some of them even share the same tendencies. And let me tell you, if you can bond over shared stories of klutziness or embarrassment? You’ve got an instant-friend.

I also finally succumbed to the power of compression socks...

So…let’s just pretend those years and subsequent failures didn’t happen, for the sake of this entry.

Now…this time last year. I had been doing boot camp for 6+ months and had run 2 5Ks. My best 5K time was 32:30 and I was damn proud of that as it was 3+ minutes faster than my times previously. I decided…I’m going to run the Cotton Row 10K.

It’s a famous race in Huntsville because there is a Hella-Hill at the midway point. I had always been too scared too try to train for it, but somehow I got it in my head: I CAN DO THIS.

And I did.

So, I thought about trying to run a whole half-marathon. Do it the right way. I signed up for a training group that started in August 2011. I told myself: I can do this. I can run an entire half-marathon.

And I did.

Then my friends I had made along the way, we got it in our heads to try trail running. Someone mentioned a 25K on our local trails. We thought: We can do this.

And we did.

And then I found a trail marathon in Chattanooga. I knew it was far enough away to give me time to train so I emailed Dave and said, Can we do this?

And in 10 days? Along with a few others from our running group that we convinced to join us?

We will.

It turns out that through this entire last year, the hardest step has always been just letting myself say: I can do this.

The training is tough and time-consuming. Don’t get me wrong. But it’s not the hardest part. The hardest part is that initial debate in your mind. When you first let the thought of a big challenge enter in your subconscious. Maybe it’s a 5K, maybe it’s an ultra marathon. Whatever it is…the first step is just letting it fester in the back of your mind until you can finally say, I can do this.

Because, it turns out adding distance is much more a mental game than a physical one. We slow down substantially on our long runs. We are running them a good 2-3 minutes/mile slower than I ran my half-marathon. And we are taking breaks every 5 or so miles. Walking, refueling, using a restroom. The physical part? You adapt to that, one step at a time.

I hadn’t run one step since my Team In Training half-marathon in 2010. And since I didn’t train for that half-marathon (walked most of it), the last time I really ran before that was 2007. Other than that one 13.1 mile fundraiser in 2010, I was sedentary since 2007. Almost 3 years of nothing but sitting on the couch before I started boot camp in October 2010. I didn’t start running until this time LAST YEAR. I’ve been running semi-regularly since last May. I started really running, at least 3 times a week…last August. In other words? Where I’m at right now boils down to about 10 months of really running. TEN MONTHS. I had another 10-months of a fitness foundation (boot camp and the periodic 5K) before that, but basically? 10 months to turn me into the runner I hope to be until the day I die.

But in that 10 months I’ve learned that the mental part? Is always the hardest. Allowing yourself, for that one second, to believe that maybe – JUST MAYBE – you could do it. I signed up for a 5K in 2010, thinking that boot camp had probably gotten me in good enough shape to do it. And I did it. Then I started thinking, well…maybe if boot camp keeps me in 5K shape…I could try a 10K.

You have to find that part of you who doesn’t think you’re too fat, or too slow. Or in my case: TOO BUSY. Because there is a part of you that knows that there’s someone bigger, slower, and busier doing the things you fear. You have to allow that part of you to consider the possibility that maybe you can do it. And that’s where it starts. That’s how it starts. For me? It took several starts to stick but now…in 10 days…I’ll be running my first marathon. And I’ll be doing it on trails. All because I let the part of me that thought I could, make decisions for once, ignoring the much-larger part of me that thought: Never, not in a million years.

Wes and I after the Oak Barrel Half Marathon

Once those got a bit longer, and once my mid-week runs were more than 3 miles, I started feeling guilty. I was having to miss soccer games and practices. So…to deal with the guilt? I skipped the runs. For about 3-4 weeks early in that program, I did my best to still run while the kids were sleeping, without my group.

But then, the Saturday runs got longer and I knew that I needed the group to motivate me. To hold me accountable. So, I sucked it up. I started letting myself miss a few games, miss time with the kids, just to accomplish this one goal. This one half-marathon.

Somewhere along the way…the guilt lessened. I stopped feeling bad when I left the kids. I stopped thinking that I was being a bad Mom. Somewhere along the way…it became okay. And I’m so glad it did.

We used to talk about Donnie and I leaving to exercise a lot. Sometimes the kids try to say, “Why do you run so much?” or something similar. I explained to them the importance of exercise and being healthy. This is just standard knowledge now.

Now, the conversations are much different.

“Did you have a good run today, Momma?”
“Did you have a good swim, Dad?”
“I play softball…that’s exercise too! I’m healthy.”
“Dance is exercise! I’m healthy too!”

The mood is different now. This is just our life. The kids know that there are many times a week when routines are shifted to accommodate Mommy and Daddy training for races. They know that sometimes they have to go someplace boring for awhile just to scream for 10 seconds when one of their parents crosses a finish-line. They don’t question anymore because it’s just…our life. And the knowledge that the kids are now growing up with this default setting that exercise is part of an adult’s life? Is worth so much more than those hours missed.

I’d heard that before…that we should get over our guilt when we exercise because our kids learn more life lessons from us being gone than they do from us being there. But it never really hit me until Nikki started showing off her muscles one day. “I have big muscles like you, Mom!” Or until Wes asked if he could wear my medal from my race. Or, especially that time when I overheard Nikki telling her friend when I was picking her up from daycare, “I have to get up EARLY tomorrow because my Mom and Dad have a big race in Tennessee.” And she wasn’t saying it with bitterness that she had to wake-up early, she was saying it with pride because her parents do things like go to BIG RACES!

I wish I knew the magic formula: Suffer through the guilt for 1 month and then things will get better! But it was a gradual change. Gradually the guilt subsided and it was replaced with pride. Pride that my kids will grow up assuming that exercise will be part of their adult life. Even big brother goes running sometimes, everyone does! Since our current society seems to be the breeding ground for more and more unhealthy lifestyles…the fact that I’m providing a foundation to combat that? Gives me more pride than guilt.

So…if you feel guilty every time you leave for a run? Hang in there. That will fade, I promise, and the feeling it leaves in it’s wake? The pride that maybe you’re doing something right after all? That maybe there’s one part of your kids you’re not screwing up? That maybe they’re learning something positive from you after all? It’s a damn good feeling. Because – someone like me passes on a lot of bad examples to her children: I’m stressed, anxious, I watch too much TV and I stress eat. But – if they’re also seeing that I exercise often and take time to set goals and train for them? Then maybe the bad stuff won’t have as much influence on them.

Sidenote: I ADORE THIS PICTURE.

None of us want our children to grow up up with body image issues. All of us want our children to believe that what’s inside is what really counts. These are easy concepts – in theory.

In practice – it’s a little harder. I do what I can not to talk about my insecurities around my children, but I’m certain they feel it. I try to compliment them on their strength or their intelligence, but I often also tell they they look pretty and handsome. I don’t ever talk about losing weight around them. I repeat 1,000 times a day that I’d rather them be kind than pretty. This is the easy part.

The hard part is what to say in those moments. Those moments we all have when our kids say something that hurts our feelings, something about our appearance. We all have the stories. Your child called you fat. Your child made fun of your wrinkles. Your child laughed at your zits. Something that – of course – was innocent in their young minds. But in our jaded and insecure minds? Something that hurt. Those moments probably teach the most important lessons…and I swear on all that is holy, I think I fail every time.

I had two just last week and I thought I’d share them with you. I’d love to hear, how would YOU react? How would you turn those moments into a valuable lesson that includes the idea that A) Appearances are not the most important part of someone BUT… B) Slights on appearance will definitely hurt someone’s feelings.

It’s a fine line. “It’s what’s inside that counts!/But don’t insult my outside because it upsets me!” OR “It’s more important to be healthy than skinny!/But don’t call me fat because it makes me sad!”

Incident 1 – I was holding Wes on my hip the other night in the lobby of a performance we were attending. He patted my stomach and said, “Why is your belly so fat?”

Incident 2 – Nikki was with me in the dressing room when I was trying on clothes. First she said, “When you take the shirts off, why does your fat belly wobble so much?” And then she got very grossed out when she noticed all of the stretched marks on my hips, “What are THOSE?” with the lovely disgusted expression on her face.

I think I handled both moments okay. Not great, because it’s hard. I usually like to eventually divert the attention and say something like, “Who cares about that flabby belly…DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MILES I CAN RUN?” But, in the moment, sometimes it’s hard to do that successfully without making it really obvious your feelings are a tad hurt.

I’m just curious, how would you handle those moments? How would you turn them into lessons about both A) Positive body image and B) Consideration when commenting on another person’s appearance.

When I started my half-marathon training class last August, I figured I probably had 200+ miles on those shoes if you counted the entire year of boot camp and periodic running before. I knew that most people tell you to only put 300-350 miles on your shoes, so I started thinking about replacing them, not wanting them to crap out on me right before my half-marathon.

I started getting weird hip/knee issues about a month before the race and decided I had crossed the 300 mile mark and it was time to replace the shoes. The ones I was wearing were the Blue/Gray Nike Pegasus 27, which they didn’t make anymore. I opted to stick with the Pegasus and just get the newer model. Those were the Burgandy/Orange ones. Ever since then, I have kept track of my miles on my shoes and around the 330 mark, I can feel it in my knees/hips. I highly suggest you keep track of your miles on your shoes.

This week I’m breaking in another new pair. I didn’t do a great job separating my miles between my last pair of Pegasus 28 and my trail shoes. So, I know I have anywhere from 315 to 380 on the Burgandy/Pink pair. This week? I started wearing the Aqua/Pink pair.

Four pairs of shoes in a year. The first pair were already a year old, so it’s not like I’ve worn out that many shoes in a year, but still…four pairs of shoes in a year. I’ve already run almost 500 miles in 2012, almost 500 miles in FOUR MONTHS. It’s not wonder I’m going through shoes so fast.

Some people haven’t found that one pair of shoes they love. I have, so I stick with them. I love that they come in crazy colors, although I think I’ve bought them all now. The next pair will either have to be white (BORING) or I’ll have to special order some, which I might do to celebrate all of my running this year.

Everyone is different about their shoes, but I tell you, the 300+ miles thing? Has been on the spot for me. And I love my Pegasus. I still get blisters during hot runs (no blisters all winter, but they’re back now that it’s hot) but other than that? Nothing. The periodic mild shin splint, that’s it.

How about you? Do you keep track of the miles on your shoes? Do you switch brands/models?

This picture has nothing to do with my sleep issues. I just took it yesterday and I like it.

First? Thank you for yesterday. I’m saddened that so many of us feel so ugly but I’m also happy to know I’m not alone. I think I’m going to try to remember to tell people when I think they’re awesome…so that, if they’re having an I Feel Ugly moment, maybe that will help them a bit.

Second? I chose a winner for the drawing! I’m going to try to do another giveaway next week…I just have to decide what to give away!

Now…on to the Sleepy Shoes!

We have weird sleep issues in our house. And by “we” I mean “I” of course. I have weird sleep issues.

When Donnie and I first started sharing a bed, it was a struggle for me to get to sleep. He needed a TV to fall asleep watching, always had, I needed dark silence. Our “compromise” was that he didn’t watch cartoon shows (like Simpsons) because they were too bright, and he didn’t watch anything funny because when he woke me up laughing I often responded by punching him in the face.

Eventually, I got to the point where I could fall asleep most night with the TV on. Most nights. There were still plenty of nights that I struggled, but on average it worked.

Then we bought this house 2 summers ago and all of that stopped. I just couldn’t fall asleep with the TV on. No matter how hard we tried. I think it’s due to the streetlight outside our bedroom. It added an element of annoyance I couldn’t overcome. And, that was when I started boot camp so I had to get up around 4am in the mornings. I NEEDED MY SLEEP.

So, I started going to bed with Nikki and sleeping with her. I would wake up around midnight most nights and stumble back into my own bed. It worked. I got the sleep I needed and Donnie still had his TV.

But…somewhere along the way I stopped waking up in the middle of the night. So now? I basically sleep with my 6-year old every night. While my husband sleeps in our bed. Alone.

Now…there are still plenty of nights where we hang out in bed and watch TV or movies together. But when I’m ready for sleep and he’s not? I’m in bed with Nikki. Some nights he heads to bed before me so, by the time I’m ready, he’s asleep. Those nights? I head to our bed because…NO TV!

I used to think this was very weird…and I still do…but recently I’ve joked about this situation to other people and it turns out? Lots of couples have trouble sleeping together. One hogs the covers. The other snores. She ends up on the couch most nights. He ends up in the guest bedroom.

So…Do you and your significant other sleep well together? How do you combat it if you don’t?

I feel pretty so rarely that those moments stick out in my mind. That day? Remember that day when I was wearing that outfit and my hair looked good and I was happy? That day I felt pretty. That one day last year.

When I go on dates with Donnie I am constantly imagining the people around me thinking things like, “How did she score him?” When I meet his triathlon friends at races I hear them thinking, “I imagined her to be much prettier…” Because I see him as this gorgeous man with this great body and this youthful face and I’m just…a troll.

I see pictures people take of themselves in instagram all the time and I think about how much effort it takes for me to post a picture of myself. It needs the right filter that evens out my skintone, it needs to be lightened so the bags under my eyes don’t show up. I prefer to have the kids in the picture to distract from my crooked eyes. I hate my smile.

I told myself recently I was going to post an unfiltered picture to instagram. Just as a challenge to myself. Because, while I look in the mirror and fight back tears at what I see, I know that this is distorted. I know – with the logical part of my mind – that I’m probably not as ugly as I see myself. Probably. I don’t know for sure, but I feel like if I was as ugly as I see myself, I probably wouldn’t have friends, right?

So I challenge myself to try to fight that. I will post an unfiltered picture to instagram! But I tried. Every day for a week. And I couldn’t do it. I found good light this morning that acted as a filter, it evened out my skin tone at least. I finally posted it. But it took 10 failed attempts over the last week. And still, that picture you see right there? I HATE IT. I mean, I HATE IT. I posted it because I feel like I should to try to force myself to deal with these insecurities…BUT I HATE IT WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS.

Some of this is the extra weight I have yet to lose. The last time I felt good about myself consistently was the month before I got married. I keep telling myself if I could lose weight, I’d feel that good again. But would I? I was tanning on a regular basis then too, and I’m not going to do that anymore. And I had a better smile because I didn’t have the dental disaster that is my bridge that I have hated every since they put it in.

So…maybe that weight wouldn’t help. Maybe I just need to try to work on seeing myself in a different light. I don’t express these thoughts around my kids because I don’t want to play any part in giving them their own insecurities, but how do you break yourself of thoughts that you believe are true?

It’s just a struggle. The logical part of me is fairly certain I’m not as hideous as I see myself. But still…it’s hard to listen to that part when MY EYES ARE SEEING THE TRUTH. Or, at least, the truth through my own distorted self-image.

I write this – not seeking compliments or reassurances – my family does that for me. I’m just writing this to see if others deal with the same insecurities. I hate mirrors. We don’t have any in my house but the ones in the bathroom. I hate that my in-laws have one in the foyer I can’t escape. I hate that I can see myself in the reflection of the giant windows throughout my building at work. I hate pictures of myself. I hate more not having them around because I know my kids will want them, so I deal with them periodically, but if I had it my way? I’d never take a picture.

I stepped on the scale this morning and have gained back 9lbs I’ve lost. I cried. Because at least when I was losing weight, I could tolerate the insecurities because I was getting further from the person I saw in the mirror.

So, I’m not looking for “You’re beautiful” type of compliments, but I am looking for someone to say, “Me too.” I guess there’s a part of me that knows how crazy-insane this all sounds. And that part of me felt like putting it into words would open the door for other people to say, “Dude. I’m crazy-insane too.” Because that’s the beauty of the internet. Even when you feel your ugliest; you find that at least you’re not alone.