The other day, I was telling a friend a story. I said something along the lines of, “And I wasn’t going to engage because one of my rules is Don’t Engage Crazy. You often can’t ignore crazy (because, let’s face it, the reason the person gets crazy is so that they are not ignored.) but you can certainly not engage crazy.” And my friend stopped and said, “You have a rule to not engage crazy?”
“Absolutely,” I said. Because the truth is that if you engage crazy, your life is about to get hijacked. And I don’t do hostage taking. Nope, not at all.
Except for, of course, the reason I was telling my friend this story was because I had accidentally– though I knew the warning signs were there– engaged crazy after avoiding it with this person (not my friend but another person who I don’t know all that well because I have been avoiding what I thought might be a malestrom of craziness if I plugged in) for more than a year. I had dodged and dodged and dodged crazy and then stepped right into it when I wasn’t suspecting it. And it blew up in my face. Because that’s what crazy does. Explodes.
I called myself out on the carpet after it happened. I licked my wounds, and then I reminded myself, “don’t engage crazy.”
Now, let me be clear. This kind of crazy is the crazy making crazy. The drama making, hysterical making crazy. Not the a little left of center crazy which I have to be honest, I have a big heart for. What I don’t have the heart for is the escalating, name calling, accusing, maddening, pot stirring crazy. You know the kind.
That’s my public service announcement today: Don’t Engage Crazy.
You do not deserve to be taken hostage.