"I'm Not Crazy" by Cherlene (Cherry) Pedrick
I’m not crazy, not really.
I know I act strange at times. I know I ask too many questions. I know the door was locked, and you watched me turn the car around . . . again . . . to check the lock . . . again. But I’m not crazy. Her hands are red and raw. She hides them in her lap or behind her back. But still, she wonders if they’re really clean. "I did touch the door knob, not with my hands, of course, with my sleeve. But now I’ve touched my sleeve." She needs to wash her hands again. But she’s not crazy. "Don’t come in. Well, okay, come in. But don’t look around. Don’t judge my house." He knows he has boxes of paper, magazines, And newspapers cluttering the rooms. But he knows where his taxes from 1962 are . . . and the utility bills . . . and the canceled checks. But he’s not crazy. She walked through the door, but she didn’t do it right. She knows it was the eighth time. "One more time, I’ve got to get it right." If she doesn’t do it right, something may happen to her mother. But she’s not crazy. My mind wanders when you’re talking to me. When you look at me strangely, I pull my thoughts together and try to concentrate on your words. But I can’t quite give you my full attention. My mind is filled with worries and fears I can’t seem to release. But I’m not crazy. We’re not crazy, not really. We know these behaviors and thoughts aren’t normal, That they’re irrational. But we do them anyway. Do "crazy" people know they’re acting irrational? No, they act and think with ignorance of their strangeness. They don’t see your stares or hear your whispers. They don’t hear the other children laugh. They don’t see their families’ worried faces. Oh, the bliss of not knowing, of not caring, Of not longing to stop checking, washing, hoarding, Ritualizing and worrying. But of course, we do want to stop, We do want to be "normal" like you. We dream of a day without these tortured thoughts. I will leave my house without worrying about the lock. And she won’t have to go through a door more than once. His house will be clean and her hands will be healed. My mind won’t be filled with worries and fears. It’s not a dream. With therapy, medication, prayer and putting my life in God’s hands, My dream has come true. Well, almost. I have a few strange behaviors and I still worry at times. But doesn’t everyone? I remember the stares, the whispers, the worried faces and the laughs. Each day, the memories fade a little more. But I remember so well, the kind support, the gentle encouragement, And the firm insistence that I resist my temptation To quit trying and give in to my compulsions. I remember the times my loved ones laughed with me When I was finally able to see the humor in my behavior and thoughts. They rejoiced in my success, even my small steps toward success. Most of all, I remember the love and prayers. They prayed when I couldn’t. They loved me when I couldn’t love myself. I think I speak for many with this strange illness called OCD, "Thank you who have supported me and others with OCD. Without you, our recovery would be slower. We might not see the need for recovery, we might lose hope." To those who laugh and stare and whisper – to you I say, "I’m not crazy.” |
BIOGRAPHY"Cherry Pedrick." Cherry Pedrick's Publications. N.p., n.d. Web. 01 Mar. 2015.
Cherry Pedrick, RN, is a freelance writer with over twenty year's experience as a nurse who is dedicated to helping people make positive changes in their physical, mental and spiritual lives. In 1994 she was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, which began an intensive search for knowledge, effective treatment, and management of OCD. She has coauthored many books for people with obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorders, including the first edition of The OCD Workbook, The Habit Control Workbook, The BDD Workbook, and Helping Your Child with OCD. She lives in North Las Vegas, NV. You can read many of her articles and learn more about her books at www.cherrypedrick.com. Poem analysisIn this poem, written by Cherry Pedrick, it portrays her condition of OCD in relation to the fact that she and others face it in isolation because no one fully comprehends the circumstance. Although she may not be in legitimate solitude, she feels autonomous when confronting her difficulties. This can be connected with Edna's role in The Awakening, only by setting aside the circumstances in which they were independent. Anticipated that they would perform their household obligations and look after the wellbeing and satisfaction of their families, Victorian women, such as Edna, were kept from looking for the fulfillment they could call their own wants and needs. Similar to most individuals who have any mental illness, society asks that they simply set their agony aside because it is not a physical disorder and the torment can not generally be indicated. In this poem, not only does Pedrick delineate how it feels to be viewed as "insane" by an outcast, she explains that they're left in isolation with their disorder often. Realistically, OCD sufferers need to be free from society's judgements just as much as Edna needed to be free from society's desires of her. Amid her individual disclosure, Edna becomes in touch with her own personality and recognizes her longings and objectives. Although she is openly criticized by most, she neglects their remarks and watched out for her goals. Similar to this, Pedrick watches her objectives of recuperation and recovery. She recalls the judgment of those spectators yet she likewise recollects the affection, empathy, and tolerance for the individuals who supported her.
Rhetorical strategies in this poem are repetition, changes of perspective consistently, the utilization of ethos, and a tone change from negative to positive. Repetition indicated all through the poem is focused around the expression "I'm not crazy," a typical saying for those with any dysfunctional behavior. Next, all through the first section of the poem, the point of view changes to demonstrate that OCD is common, as well as it demonstrates how anyone with OCD is seen with judgment. The last piece of the poem is a sample of ethos-the reference to personally experienced events. This allows for the readers to feel an emotional attachment as well as validate any statements she has claimed because she has now demonstrated that she knows what she is speaking of. When she moves from others' viewpoints to her own encounters, the tone shifts from negative implications to a more positive, motivational temperament. She sets up the poem to clarify all the challenges that accompany being OCD, and finishes with demonstrating that it is conceivable to overcome. |