When Loonies Attack

DISCLAIMER: Three things ~

- This rant is NOT as up-beat as my usual post. If you're in already in a mood, read the reindeer post below and smile :-)

- This rant is NOT about any of the dear people I have mentioned on this blog before! Do not take offense, do not relate to this description (unless it's relevant), and just be glad these nutters are not in YOUR life.

-This rant was originally drafted on 12/8, butI forgot to change the edit date. So even though I posted it now that's why it posted low and got buried & it wasn't seen.

I've had the misfortune of getting sucked into the maelstrom of madness. Certain former neighbors of mine are both life-long customers of the mental health industry. The most regrettable aspect of this story is that I had no idea when I met her just how looney the woman (of the couple) could be... From the moment we met she seemed somewhat normal (other than the fact that she seemed to have lousy taste in boyfriends). After several months of neighbor-ship, however, the scope of her madness came to light. She and I were having a chat on my side porch one sunny day, discussing this and that, when she started talking about the time she lived in Texas. And about the fact that George W. Bush had sent her flowers during her stay in a Dallas hospital.

Now, I'm as open-minded as possible in most circumstances. Just ask my mother-- I've got a bizarre array of saint and sinners in my circle of friends and associates. And I have heard some truly bizarre stories out of these souls. But my b.s.-meter began to ring madly when the "W" story got rolling, and it signaled the death knell of any active pursuit of "friendship" between Ms. Madness and I-- on my part, at least. The saddest part of this story is that Crazy (him) & Crazier (her) managed to pop out 2 baby boys in 11 months while they lived near me, as well as regaining custody of her 12-year-old (from a previous marriage). She had her man picked up on domestic charges 3 different times during the 2+ years they lived near me, several times the police were called for domestic "issues" regarding neighbors and associates bothering them (either in reality or over "preceived" insults).

The crowning offense came 3 weeks after the youngest son was born. I went home for lunch (as I do most days), and as I was leaving Crazy approached me with the newborn swaddled to near invisibility in a baby snug-sack, saying he needed to take the child to the doctor's office because "his leg is red and puffy." I didn't think much of this at the time, as the baby was calm and didn't seem to be in undue pain or distress. That is, until I received a call later that afternoon from Crazier (who was sobbing):"We're on our way to Morgantown-- the baby's leg is broken, and the doctor thinks he might have that brittle bone disease!" After all of the couple's dramas and traumas during the previous year, I couldn't predict what this latest twist of fate could signify. At least not until 48 hours later, when the report came back from the hospital that the baby did not in fact have osteomyelitis, but that his leg had been fractured in two places-- in addition to having several damaged ribs. Crazier blamed the 12-year old son, citing jealousy. Yet other sources blamed Crazy, saying he'd had the infant in bed with him while Crazier grabbed a shower, and had inadvertently rolled on the child.

To this day I don't know the actual reality of the situation. I've never really believed Crazier's version of the story-- skinny, average 12-year olds don't often have the strength to fracture the pliable legs of infants. Crazy is enough of over-medicated oaf that I could see him tucking the baby in bed with him, trying to coerce another 20 minutes of sleep for himself AND Baby, then dozing off and squishing him against the wooden bedframe (they had two twin beds smooshed together). But the sad reality of this tale is that no matter WHAT the truth is, the 12-year-old will never have a normal life after this tragedy. Whether he injured the baby or not, his parents accused him of it to establish their innocence. Even if for some god-forsaken reason the court would decide to send him back to her (Crazy his since moved downstate to "get away" from her), he (the eldest) can never truly trust her again. At first I was devastated that the little family had been torn apart this way. But evidence of recent months lets me know that that is one reunion that probably shouldn't occur... Mom and Dad will-- in all likelihood-- NEVER be "cured"... Never be mentally stable enough the give these boys the nurturing and support that they need and deserve. The two youngest boys have been in foster care since the incident, and Crazier says the foster parents want to adopt (again, she might be saying this for sympathy). And I can't even guess what will happen to the older son... whether he'll eventually return to his father's family or not-- I'm still shocked he was sent BACK to her, knowing her as I now do.

People who hear this story ask me, "How did you get involved with this tribe of loonies?" The answer is simple. Mental illness is not something that all of its victims project visibly. They may look "normal" (whatever the hell that is)-- no limp, no scars, no mad scientist hair and ominous body odor. The first time I saw Crazy I thought, "The dude needs to wear a shirt in public-- wicked case of 'man-boobs'." And until I spoke with him a number of times, my only other thought was, "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer-- brags too much, but pretty harmless." When I met Crazier, I thought, "Seems nice, close to my age... goofy boyfriend, but pleasant to talk with." But as time went by, and more and more "incidents" started occurring, I did all I could to distance myself from them both. They were finally evicted 6 months ago when new owners purchased their building, and I had hoped that the intrusions would abate. I was wrong.

I could let this post ramble on indefinately, detailing the notes that have been left for me, whacked out e-mails I've received (that were simultaneously sent to radio-show hosts, local police, the Bishop, several members of the British royal family & the Prime Minister, my BOSS), and bizarre calls / visits at all hours of the day and night. I would only ask that any of you who read this will take a moment to pray for people with mental illness. As lay people we can't change their behavior-- we can only try to help them seek appropriate medication & counseling (when applicable), and to try and be tolerant of the behaviors over which they have no control.