Hide Your Crazy

So...have you ever been "that girl"? The crazy girlfriend? The one who snoops, the one goes through your boyfriend's phone, the one who goes ten shades of psycho if said boyfriend doesn't text you back in less than one millisecond because that must surely mean he's screwing some other chick? 

No? Then this post isn't for you. Please pat yourself on the back on your way out because you either haven't ever dealt with a dbag boyfriend or you're some sort of delusional nitwit that had no idea you were dating one. But don't pat yourself if you're the latter because that's just as bad as being a nutcase. If you answered yes to these questions though, then come take a seat at my cafeteria table because I've been there done that and it wasn't pretty.

Let's backtrack a bit, and by a bit I mean way back to 2007. The same year Britney shaved her head and jumped off the deep end. Apparently the Chinese calendar should have read "Year of the Crazy" instead of "Year of the Whatever Animal it Was". 


So we're in the summer of 2007 and I had just graduated High School. Up until this point I had still never had a "real" boyfriend. There was that one time I dated this one guy for a matter of two and a half days but that was just because I wanted to have the cool anniversary date with hearts next to it and a country love song lyric in my AIM profile. You did it too, stop judging.

But things started to change rather quickly that summer. I met a guy who had just finished his freshman year of college at Cornell who was the social chair of his fraternity. But he was from Ithaca so when all the students were away he would just sneak all of his friends into the frat house to party. And so I went. Like the good little 18 year old that I was. A couple games of beer pong later we hit it off and started hanging out. A couple months after that we were "officially dating" aka it was on Facebook. You know, the real way to tell if a couple is serious or not. Meanwhile, I had just started my freshman year of college which was two hours away from Cornell and the hunky frat boy who was known to play girls like a fiddle. We can see where this is going...


Fast forward to somewhere around the six month mark and I started seeing numerous red flags as well as getting calls and texts from friends telling me he was being shadier than a willow tree at five o'clock and your girl went bananers. But have it be known that I did take the sane route first. I confronted him and I tried to have a conversation about it like a normal human. No such luck though, all I got were lies. You see, I'm a pretty laid back and easy going chick until you f*ck with me. But after you do that it's game over Batman. 

My biggest fear wasn't ever being cheated on, it was looking like a fool by having no idea that I was being cheated on. I was terrified of that. But homeboy frat dude didn't play nice or fair. He just lied. And lied and lied and lied some more. Because he still "loved me" but also loved the slutty sorority girls that showed up and partied half naked in that same frat house until the wee hours of the morning. Kind of like a "have the Erin cake and eat the slorstitute at the same time" kind of thing.

And this is the part that I shaved my head and jumped into the deep end of the pool to splash around with Brit Brit. Minus I didn't shave my head and instead I just started going through his phone, stalking his Facebook, signing into his AIM to see what girls would message him, showing up at parties when he had no idea, following him to the mall to see if he was meeting someone there, etc. You know, all the really insanely psychotic things you hear crazy bitches doing. You name it, I probably did it. But I had to do it in order to find out if he was making me look like a fool by lying about everything. At least in my head I had to.

But here's the thing: there were texts from other girls on his phone, girls that he was rumored to be hooking up with did message him on AIM, he would be grinding with a hoe on the dance floor at the parties, and he did meet an ex-girlfriend in the mall parking lot. So through all of my bat shit crazy behaviors I found a whole truck load of evidence proving that he was and had been cheating for a very long time.


And this is the part that I say "GIRLS DON'T GO CRAZY FOR NO APPARENT REASON". Well some do, but that's usually from some other personal issue buried deep down inside. But in my case, my intuitions were correct. Everything I thought was going on was, in fact, going on. He just wasn't man enough to admit it. And I wasn't woman enough to walk away instead of resorting to hopping aboard the psychotic express. But I was young and he was my first love and that's that. Fast forward to now and I haven't taken a ride on that crazy train since way back in 2007 and I never plan to ever again. That's probably because I haven't dated any lying skeezballs since. Quite the opposite actually. Also because I'm really not mentally unstable. Really, I'm not. I'm the farthest thing from it and will be the most easy going girlfriend in the world...until you play me like a fool apparently.

So the moral of the story is this:

1) Generally, a girl doesn't just up and decide to become a crazy bitch. There's usually some asshole on the other side treating her like shit causing her to head straight to the looney bin. 

2) If you find yourself heading to said looney bin then stop drop and roll right on out of there girlfriend. Grab your lady balls and stick up for yourself before you become "that girl". Because nobody likes that girl.

And that ends today's session with Dr. Two Thirds Hazel. You are free to go. Please pay your $20 copay at the door and grab a lollipop on the way out.

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