Stepford or Crazy?

I remember my Dad telling me once that you could call a sane person crazy and they would just laugh, but if you called a crazy person crazy...they would show how much they were. Anyway, I also remember my Dad telling me I would have had a lot more dates as a teenager if I would just stop intimidating the hell out of people, but... everyone needs a hobby.

After my previous blog, and reading further in this one, you might begin to conclude that I am some sort of femi-nazi, I can assure you that I am not. I also do not belong to the "in" crowd of my ward at church. I am sure they are perfectly nice women who worry about framing the Proclamation and matting it with pictures of their family. They worry about getting together for their Pampered Chef Parties, choir practice, soccer and who knows what else. I don't belong in that world because I wasn't raised to spend my time on trivialities, and yes, I consider those things trivialities. So needless to say I don't spend a lot of time socializing with them, worrying about things they do, what they say, or even what they think.

I do have a few close friends in the ward and while I don't get to spend a lot of time together, we are pretty compatible. So, this morning when one of them called me, we started chatting and she said she had recommended that a woman in our ward (who is part of the "in" crowd) ask me about raising chickens. Apparently the woman was very surprised and then said, "Allison Dederick? Well...isn't she...bipolar?". Now at this point in the conversation, both my friend and I laughed. Seriously? We then speculated, because this person really doesn't know me at all, on who had diagnosed me and just how many "good sisters" are worried about me. So I guess word in the middle of the ward is that I am right there on the edge...(in retrospect I probably shouldn't have told the Primay President I was thrilled with getting a pistol last year for Christmas)

Of course the first thing I have to do after I hang up is to call my mother and sister, they thought it was pretty funny too. My mother then became very indignant and said it was because they were a little green eyed. My sister Nancy speculated it was because I actually have my own personality and feel emotion as opposed to all the Stepford Mormon women who simply "turn the other cheek" and never let anything show, after all you are supposed to just take it with a smile. Then I called my husband...who just got mad. It makes me wonder if I was still a size 22 if I would be unbalanced? After all, I can hear it now, "well, she might be thin, but you know...".

Just for the record, no, I have never been diagnosed with bi-polar, manic, schizophrenia, or any other mental illness. I do, however, have a lot of sympathy for those with actual disorders. But for those women in my ward, who have time on their hands to worry about me...I appreciate your concern, how Christ like of you. But let's just let the cat out of the bag, my Dad had it right. Maybe if I didn't intimidate the hell out of you...you wouldn't have to make up stories about me.