Crazy grows on trees.

As kitschy as the title sounds, this is going to be a serious post. I hope.

Did you know that 1 in 6 adults have some form of mental illness? And 1 in 10 children suffer from a diagnosable mental illness?

That explains a LOT now, doesn't it?

Think about that for a minute. Think about your family members, your co-workers, your boss, even some of your friends. If one in six of those people have a mental illness, you might be right. That bitch IS crazy.

And just when you think your child is playing with one of Bebe’s kids, you might be wrong. That child might have a biological behavioral issue that’s treatable.

Tom Cruise would hate me. I am a huge advocate of medication and therapy. Your brain is an organ and if it gets sick, there's medication to help it. Help you.

So, now that you know, you also need to know that is it not their fault. It’s a chemical imbalance, not a character flaw.

Yes, I know how hard it is to deal with unstable people, but the trick is, not to get caught up in their vortex of crazy or you will be sucked into the rabbit hole. And it’s not a pretty place. It can be a dark place. Just email this post to them and say read this. It’s okay.

Recognize when someone’s behavior just isn't right, and know that it isn’t personal. Be sensible. Be rational. Be compassionate. And, most of all, be aware.

I say it all of the time, there are so many undiagnosed, untreated mentally ill people walking around like they are normal you have no idea. But you should. Everyone should educate themselves about mental illness just we do about cancer, heart disease, diabetes, hypertension, drug addiction, etc.

Just like we all used to read astrology books and learn about the signs of the zodiac so we would know what a person’s personality was like, what our own personality was like, and share our “sign” with others so as to know who we’d get along with, and explain who and how we really are at our core -- we need to do the same with learning about mental illness.

Everybody needs to get a copy of DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) -- stat! If you learn about the different types of illnesses, you will be able to recognize it when you see it, and understand better what is really going on versus what appears to be going on (with a person or situation).

Just like you can be an Aries but have a moon in Libra, there are all different kinds of combinations of mental illness. But here’s a rule of thumb. If you think you’re crazy, you’re not. That alone would be too much like right. If you think you are “going” crazy, you won’t actually go there if you seek help right away.

It’s the people that DON’T KNOW they’re crazy that need help the most. And that’s a hard nut to crack.

Treatment can totally change a person’s life. But too many people suffer in silence and ignorance.

I wish we could erase the stigma. I believe more people would get help. Calling people crazy doesn’t help either -- GUILTY! -- but I got your attention.

Perhaps we can come up with some color ribbon to wear in support of crazy. Like they do with breast cancer. And heart disease. And AIDS. (pink, red, and purple are taken).

How about grey? ‘Cause we’re talking about the grey matter in your skull. Ya think?

Say It Loud, ...

The first CNN documentary “Black in America” that debuted with much fanfare left me wanting. Part II left me bored and frustrated. What I remember most about them is Malak Compton Rock’s escapade in Africa feeding starving children. What the what? She took poor black kids from America to Africa to meet even poorer, and blacker, kids. It was like an infomercial for her foundation. Like one of those late-night-Sally-Struthers-Feed-the-Children-send-in-a-donation-adopt-a-child-ads. Okay, where do I buy a starving African kid? Do I purchase one online through your foundation, Malak? Or should I just grab one of the ones from New York and bring ‘em home?

I felt bad for those children she dragged half-way across the world to essentially say, at least it’s what I saw, “you think you got it bad? Look at these mofos right here! You at least get food stamps. All they  get is rice.” Dragging those poor babies from Harlem to see deprivation in Africa was no service learning experience to me. Can they get a regular hot meal first before you start playing dolls with them? That was abusive. What the heck can they do about starving children in Africa when they don’t have food to eat? I bet they couldn’t wait to get back home and get some McDonald’s. What a treat.

So, suffice it to say, this new CNN doc on ‘Who is Black in America” left me not just wanting, but stupefied. You get another opportunity to tell the story of being Black in America – colorism, even – and you give us another infomercial on a non-profit?!! Where can I sign up to get a confused light-skinned black girl who slams poetry on “What am I?”

Hey, let’s first answer the question “Who is Black in America?” The answer is nobody. And the answer is everybody who’s black. If you’re black, your black. If you’re biracial, you are whatever race your color points to. If you don’t look like you could be a contestant on the Bachelor, your ass is black. Sorry, but those are the rules.

I didn’t make up the rules. I wish we lived in a world free of colorism and racism. You don’t know how hard it is bringing up a child in this world, after having witnessed the purity of their hearts, and having to explain race and color to them. And have it make sense. Because it doesn’t. Try it. Try explaining to a caramel colored girl that she’s black – or worse, African American -- and you’ll be met with the most ridiculous argument.

“But mom, I’m brown. How can I be black? And your skin is white, how can you be black, too.”

Where do I start? With Africa? Or my parent’s parents?

Children comprehend color before they can ever comprehend RACE. It took years trying to help my daughter understand why we were called black. Especially why I called myself black! When you teach a child their ABCs and 123s and the colors:  red, yellow and blues; when you point to skin that’s light and say that person is black, the child will look at you like you are Scooby Doo. “Urgh?”

When you see the world through a child’s eyes, you can really see how silly, and frankly, stupid, race is. Not to mention how troubling and absurd racism and discrimination are, and it’s all based upon skin color. It’s crazy.

I really don’t want my daughter to know what I know about racism. It’s ugly. Hateful. And unfair.

I want her to continue to be blind to the black and white of this world, and continue to view is as the rainbow she sees. All colors, all  beautiful, each unique.

“Who is Black in America” is a day late and a dollar short. We should have openly talked about “colorism” in the last century.

Now, go figure, I can’t get any love as a black woman. Now, in the 21^st century, I’m confused as mixed, or Hispanic. So is my daughter. What happened to me just being Black? Even Black people don’t think we’re black! And worse, Hispanics think I’m Hispanic! And I get treated like a sell out when I don’t (or won’t, in their minds) converse with them in Spanish when spoken to.

Further, I’m here to tell you an even sadder fact experiencing life as a Hispanic… they get treated worse than Black Folks!. Yep. I wish I was back black.

So, “Who is Black in America?”

Not me. Not anymore.

The Help

Ah! My first blog post under my new blog and this isn't going to be pretty. I'll be pretty another day.

So, here's the headline: Terms approved for new Falcon's Stadium deal. Yep! I'm been hinting on my Facebook page for the past few months that the GWCC and the Falcons were going to build a new stadium and it was not a matter of public discussion or approval. It has been a deal in the works since 2010. But they could have at least given the public, the fans, and "the community" the courtesy of a "please, grab some Vaseline and bend over" first, (no disrespect to Vaseline), before ram-rodding the stadium through... Or, at least dinner and some wine.

Speaking of dinner and wine, this is what I posted on Facebook before the big announcement was made:

ATLANTA: Put this in your pipe and smoke it. THE VOTE GOES DOWN TODAY AND THE DEAL WILL IS ALREADY DONE. It's not a matter of IF a new stadium will be built, it's only a matter of time. We are going to get a new stadium, like it or not. It's funny, because when you read the comments section of all the articles and blogs on this story, the public doesn't want a new stadium. Falcon fans don't even want a new stadium. Everybody knows its a boondoggle, BUT OPEN YOUR THROATS 'CUZ HERE IT COMES! (Boondoggle: noun, work or activity that is wasteful or pointless but gives the appearance of having value) ... and if you think this will create jobs for "the community" and in the community, DONT BE BAMBOOZLED, TOO. The current Dome is already in "the community" -- duh! The only new jobs that will be created are the ones needed to build the new behemoth. And if you want a piece of the action. Stand in line, take a number, and have cocktails with a Republican Legislator.

See, here's the deal: (enter code words) Atlanta is a little blue island in a red sea (Georgia). The sea captains are going to build a temple on the island -- even though the island didn't ask for a temple -- because they can. And because Pharaoh wants one.

h/t clatl

Ah, you can quit your caterwauling because there will be plenty of jobs making bricks to build the damn thing. Pharaoh is going to make sure the sea captains deliver to you all the straw, mud and water you need. He's going to pay them the big bucks to make sure of it. And once the temple is built, surely they are going to have to hire help to keep to keep the place clean, cook and serve food for the folks visiting the temple, and making sure stuff that needs to be hauled gets hauled. It's called jobs! Isn't that what you blue islanders want? And once they move "the community" from the community where they are going to build the temple, well, those folks can come back and get a job. That's what the sea captains are going to do for you.

Affirmative Action? What do you think this is? The '90's? You've got a black, er, a blue mayor and the airport. And he gets along with Pharaoh. Let Pharaoh and his rich white male, er, friends have the temple. You'll get to come to the games if you win the lottery. And you know you love playing the lottery. That, too, was a gift from the sea captains.

The sooner you redneckognize the better, that when it comes to the new stadium, you're just going to be The Help.