My entire life I have had completely unhinged word vomit. Completely bite my tongue off to try to stop myself, off the wall, inappropriate at all the absolute worst times possible intrusive thoughts that just explode out of my mouth. I can find something funny to say during any horrible situation. Funerals. National tragedies. I would be the first one to be killed in a hostage situation because I wouldn’t be able to control myself if the gun man had a lisp or a lazy eye.

A lot of times it’s absolutely hilarious. Most times it’s only funny to a certain group of people. The type of comments and jokes that would only go one of two ways if I were a stand up comic. I would either get completely booed off the stage and get death threats or praised for saying the things no one else has the audacity to say.

Even as a young child in conversation to my adult family members I can recall constantly getting in trouble and asked “What is wrong with you?” I just couldn’t help it. I can vividly remember getting a crisp $100 bill ripped out of my hand and getting smacked in the mouth around 9 years old after a family member gave me money for my upcoming Disney trip. Where most well mannered kids would respond some form of “Thank you!” I responded with “Why did you go to jail?”

My husband is my complete safe space for these uncontrollable thoughts. Probably because he himself is plagued by them. Which is why we work so good together. It’s also why I know we could never split because we would viscously destroy each other by leaking the highly classified presidential documents that is our text thread. That and we have 4 kids and we are in a completely obsessed with each other in a cute unhealthy kind of way.

Maybe it’s the crippling childhood trauma. Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline.

The worst part is the things that actually do fly out of my mouth like a bat out of hell aren’t even the worst things that are floating around my head.

I am slightly worried with my own children that because of the minimal amount of trauma they have experienced that they wouldn’t be as funny as me. We tend to shelter them. Not in a way that they are like homeschool weirdos but from toxic environments. For example: we allow them to have complete freedom with things like music, tv, movies, screen time as long as it’s not something that you’d find on pornhub but we don’t do hard drugs or beat them/each other and don’t allow family drama around them.

My kids thankfully/unfortunately will never have the beautiful Fourth of July memories of their drunk uncle blowing an entire hole in their leg with fireworks and just duct tape a table cloth to it and go on about the night. Or have to watch their mom go through all the drama and struggles of her 4 baby daddies (one of them let’s me use his employee discount at Safeway and I always steal his gas points) or wonder why their dad doesn’t love them. Things like these have shaped me into the absolutely hilarious, aware person I am today. And even better, the trauma I’ve gone through as a child has made me the mother I am.

People that know the real me seek me out for comic relief in their hard times to get through them easier. Or they don’t and I just do it anyway and hope it helps and hope that they see the intent and don’t take it wrong.

Don’t get me wrong. It may seem like after reading this that I am one of the worst people in the world. I am. But I’m not. I have often been told that I am the type of person who roots for the underdog. I am not only probably one of the most compassionate people I know, but I also beat this into all of my kids heads. To seek out the different people. The people who are struggling. Help them in any way. Sit with the kid that sits alone at lunch. Share your lunch with the kids who don’t have one. Not only because they might text you one fateful morning and let you know you should probably stay home from school today but because it’s the right thing to do.

I decided to start a blog of some of these crippling unhinged racing thoughts. Things that keep me up all night googling and researching. Things that hopefully other people think about. And if not then I’ll just chalk this blog up to another subscription that I pay for monthly and can’t bring myself to cancel because it would take way too much effort.

Macie